


under the oak tree

by ephemeralsuns



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:22:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9206135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralsuns/pseuds/ephemeralsuns
Summary: When he moves to a new school, Minseok expects a quiet and uneventful year, but that changes when he finds mysterious notes on his desk.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for the xiuhan fic fest and i totally forgot to post it here omg. i can't remember a song i listened to while writing this, but secret by taeyeon suits it well ♡
> 
> anyways, warnings for: homophobia, mild social anxiety and ex members.
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!

Minseok slips the record out of its jacket, and places it carefully over the platter of the turntable, presses on the switch by its side, and positions the tonearm over the record. He lowers the needle over the outer grooves with gentle fingers, and the machine comes to life with minimal popping, until the music starts.

Minseok lets the notes of Barbara’s sorrowful voice fill the small room, his new home, and lies down on his bed, his fingers laced over his stomach. There’s a gentle breeze that blows in the white lace curtains on the window, rising and falling like lungs breathing in air, and Minseok reminds himself to breathe.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Every time he remembers that the next day signifies the start of a new school year, in a new school far away from home, dread fills his stomach like lead, clogging his chest and making it hard to breathe.

He’d chanted the words in his head when his aunt drove him to the school, her brown eyes giving him surreptitious glances from the rearview mirror from time to time, as if checking he hadn’t somehow evaporated on the backseat. Her eyes weren’t as soft and big like her sister’s, Minseok’s mother, whose round eyes always looked like she was discovering a new wonder. Minseok doesn’t have her eyes.

“Are you okay back there?” his aunt had asked halfway through the ride from the airport.

Minseok had been reading the same letter over and over again. The date is July 15th, 1994, almost two months back, but Minseok still hadn’t found the courage to write back. His thumb traces the name, Kim Junmyeon, written elegantly at the end of the letter.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Minseok answered.

Shortly afterwards, his breath had caught in his throat when the school came to view, an huge building surrounded by dense woods. St. John’s International School, an all-boys boarding school, would be his new home for the rest of the year.

“Take care of yourself,” his aunt had told him when they stood on the school’s steps. The way she’d eyed him with her thin fingers wrapped over his shoulder belied her calm tone. There’s a twitch of a smile in her lips. “Just give me a call if you’re having a hard time and I’ll come to pick you up.”

He wished that was possible, but Minseok knew he didn’t have another choice with how busy she would be with her new teaching job and no space for Minseok in her life.

Minseok swallowed around the sudden lump lodged in his throat before he chuckled. “Thank you, but I’ll be alright.”

She hugged him tightly, but not giving Minseok enough time to properly return it before she was pulling away. Then she grabbed the lapels of her baby blue coat, as if collecting herself, and got back on her car, giving Minseok one last glance on the rearview mirror before driving away. He’d stood there watching the old red car getting smaller, wishing he’d asked her to take him back with her. But he knew his aunt had her new shiny job as a professor, and there was no room for Minseok in her life. He was startled when school staff, who had silently stood by through their goodbyes, touched his arm and signaled him to follow her inside the school with a gentle smile.

Minseok doesn’t know what to make of the old building, from its brick walls and tall windows to the enormous trees standing guard around it.

The bed next to his is empty, but above it several posters of idol groups adorn the walls, along with photographs with folded edges right above the bed frame. Minseok had felt a little intrusive when he’d peeked a glance at them when he first walked in, but he’d caught sight of a small, skinny boy with pale skin that was recurrent in most of them. Said boy still had to show up at their room, and Minseok isn’t sure if he wants him to at all. He’s never been good with strangers.

As a child Minseok used to hide behind his mother’s long, colorful skirts when she ran into a friend, who would smile down at Minseok, and coo over his round cheeks. Minseok would always cry the loudest when people pinched his cheeks. Only his mother was allowed.

Minseok heaves a sigh, deep enough to ruffle some of the hair that had fallen onto his forehead. Only then he realizes the record has ended on the turntable and the only sounds in the room are the chirping of birds beyond his window and the faint echoes of voices down the hallway outside.

A few boys had given him curious looks, and some others welcoming smiles, when he was on his way to his room following the school staff. He hadn’t struck conversation with any of them, and was silently relieved that none of them had tried either. The mere thought of it makes his stomach hurt uncomfortably.

 

+

 

His roommate shows up an hour later, when the sun is about to set.

Minseok is reading on his bed when the door opens and a small, slender boy appears in the doorway. He looks cautiously at Minseok at first, but then he smiles, an open, inviting smile. It makes Minseok’s knot in his chest loosen just a bit.

“Hey, you’re Minseok, right?” the boy says, sitting on the edge of his bed. He has delicate features, kind of like the glass dolls his grandmother kept in her living room. Minseok nods. “I’m Baekhyun.”

“Hi,” Minseok says shyly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Baekhyun grins. “You’re not what I expected,” he says. “Well, not that I was expecting anything, really. I just didn’t want someone annoying as a roommate. But you seem okay.”

Minseok isn’t so sure about Baekhyun. Baekhyun has only been in the room for about ten minutes, but he’s been practically bouncing in his spot, his hands tucked under his thighs, as though unable to sit still. Minseok has a hunch he’s the type to put music at a loud volume in the early hours of the morning or bring friends over unannounced. He prays in his head that he won’t be forced to sleep in the hallway at some point.

“Where are you from, Minseok-ah?” Baekhyun asks, leaning forward slightly. His curious eyes and sweet voice makes Minseok smile a little.

“I’m from Guri,” Minseok answers.  “What about you?”

“I’m from Gyeonggi-do, too!” Baekhyun  says, a grin spreading on his face “I’m from Bucheon!”

Baekhyun keeps asking him questions about random things; music he likes, books he reads, sports he watches—French music, only reads manhwa, doesn’t like sports—, and raises a single, thin eyebrow at each answer.

“That’s very interesting,” Baekhyun says, once Minseok questions him with a look. “I’d expected you to be more of the bookworm type, to be honest.”

“I think manhwa could still be considered books,” Minseok says. Baekhyun stares for a moment and Minseok feels his stomach tighten and then loosen when Baekhyun bursts into laughter.

“You’re right,” Baekhyun says.

Baekhyun tells him about the school and most of the rules. No being in the dorms during classes without a pass, no wandering the school after curfew at ten PM, and other minor ones that Minseok thinks it would be easier to follow anyway, since he doesn’t have any desire to break them.

“If you follow all of that you’ll be okay,” Baekhyun says with a wink. It makes Minseok smile.

That night Minseok tosses and turns in his bed, unable to find sleep. He’s too nervous about starting school the next day in an unfamiliar place around people he’s even more unfamiliar with.

Not for the first time that day he wishes he was back home, listening to the radio while his grandmother cooks and her aunt is gossiping about the neighbours or riding bicycles with Junmyeon and laughing at Junmyeon’s lame jokes that he’d always tell when Minseok was feeling down. But he reminds himself that his grandmother is dead, his aunt moved to Seoul, and Junmyeon is about to start college, and he has no time for Minseok anymore.

He turns one last time in his bed, pushing away thoughts of home and Junmyeon out of his head, and wills himself to sleep.

 

+

 

The next day Minseok looks at himself in the mirror wearing his school uniform.

Baekhyun already went down to have breakfast when Minseok was in the showers. Minseok doesn’t really feel like having breakfast, doesn’t think he could stomach any food at the moment.

His hair falls over his forehead, no matter how much he tries to comb it. He looks dumb in the soft blue vest, which bunches up annoyingly around his middle. The khaki pants with its color resembling poop don’t seem to help much. His tie feels like it’s trying to suffocate him, and even though he pulls on it a few times, the sensation doesn’t go away.

After fidgeting with his hair a little more and deeming it a lost cause, he takes a few deep breathes and leaves his room.

He walks to the class assigned on his timetable, his legs stiff like planks carrying him to the classroom. He feels his palms sweat as he stands next to the door while all the students enter the room, giving him curious, furtive glances as they pass. Baekhyun offers him a kind smile and a thumbs up when he walks past him, and Minseok does his best to return it.

When the teacher arrives, a stern-faced middle-aged woman, she gives Minseok a thin-lipped smile while her small eyes  sweep swiftly over him.

“Good morning, seonsaengnim,” Minseok says, bowing to her. “I’m Kim Minseok. Please take good care of me.”

“Good morning,” she says, her smile framed by lines around her mouth. “Come with me.”

Her wrinkled hand wraps over his shoulder as she leads him to the front of the class. Minseok balls his hands into fists, hoping all the eyes fixed on him won’t notice that he’s trembling from head to toe.

He mumbles through his introduction, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes. He does note, after the teacher mercifully tells him to go to his seat, that Baekhyun is smiling at him from his seat near the front.

Minseok is assigned to the left row, second to last seat, next to the windows. Only when he’s in the safety of his seat, he releases the breath he’d been holding in the whole time. A boy in the desk next to his is looking at him, and the sharpness of his gaze makes Minseok want to hide away. But there’s a timid curl in his lips when their eyes meet, and Minseok tries feebly to return the gesture.

He spends the rest of the class taking notes and watching the drizzle tapping on the windows.

 

+

 

At lunch, Minseok sits in a corner and keeps his eyes on the plate. He startles when a tray is dropped unceremoniously in front of him. He looks up, surprised, to see Baekhyun smiling down at him. The boy whose desk is next to his in class stands next to Baekhyun, that same small smile back on his lips.

“I  hope you don’t mind if we eat with you,” Baekhyun says. There’s slight hesitation in his voice. Minseok shakes his head jerkily.

“No, it’s okay,” Minseok rushes to say. “You can eat here.”

Baekhyun grins at him as he sits across from him. “This is Zitao, by the way.” He points with his head to the boy next to him. “He’s in our same grade.”

“Hi,” Zitao says. “I sit next to you in class. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Minseok says shyly. Zitao smiles.

“See, I told you he was cute,” Baekhyun pipes in.

Minseok feels heat pool in his cheeks when Zitao chuckles. “I’m not cute.”

Suddenly, Minseok notices three boys staring at him over Zitao’s shoulder. Their fixed gazes and expressionless faces make his stomach twist. Zitao takes note of his face and turns to look over his shoulder.

“Don’t mind them,” Zitao says, after he’s turned back to Minseok. “They wanted me to sit with them, but I do it almost everyday since freshman year. It’s good to change your routine sometimes, right?”

He gives Minseok one of those soft smiles of his, but it doesn’t quite rid of the uneasiness inside of him. He doesn’t voice this, though, and Zitao starts ranting about the school’s lack of dance activities, and Minseok keeps his dumb emotions to himself.

 

+

 

Minseok is too sleepy to pay attention to the class. He’d spent the night rolling around in his bed, thinking of how he’d noticed some kids in his Biology class earlier that day whispering while they stared at him, and turned around giggling when he caught them.

It’s been two weeks since his arrival to the school, and the only friends he’s made are Baekhyun, who sticks to him wherever he goes, and Zitao, who only hangs out with them sometimes during lunch or breaks. Zitao would tell them he’d already told his friends they would eat together or hang out with them, each time with an apologetic look, and Minseok would just smile as he waved him off.

His Chemistry teacher, a kind-looking woman, had asked him why he didn’t hang out with other kids while he was in the line to buy dinner. He’d answered with a smile and a shy mumble of  _I’ll try to do that_. He knew it wasn’t that easy for him.

His aunt had sounded worried when he’d talked to her on the phone, but he’d tried to appease her. The last thing he wanted was to make her worry about him atop all the work she must be having at the university.

He feels bad, but sometimes he’s almost glad that Zitao doesn’t hang out with them all the time. Most of the time, his friends are watching whenever Zitao is with Minseok, as though they were assessing Minseok. It unnerves Minseok a little, but he doesn’t dare to mention it to Zitao, in case he gets offended.

Minseok particularly didn’t like one of the boys; a tall, slender boy with a pointy face, whose doe eyes seem to follow Minseok even when Zitao isn’t there.

One time Baekhyun had caught them looking over their table at lunch. “Don’t pay attention to them,” he’d said dismissively. “They’re weird.”

“Who’s that?” Minseok nods at the doe-eyed boy, now talking to the black haired guy sitting in front of him.

“That’s Luhan,” Baekhyun says dismissively. “He’s a jerk. He gets into fights all the time and likes to pull pranks on people.”

Minseok watches Luhan for a moment before the boy catches his eyes, and Minseok drops his gaze to his plate. Minseok doesn’t know what he did to deserve those stares, but he wishes it would stop. He’d never done well with unwanted attention, and he’s already doing his best to ignore them.

He almost wishes he was back home, in the comfort of his room, telling Junmyeon all about how annoying these boys are. Minseok knows he’d bump his shoulder and tell him he’s mean, even though he’d be laughing that sweet, tinkling laugh of his that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. Minseok misses how comfortable it made him feel.

He hadn’t thought he’d be homesick so soon. Minseok sighs, his chin in his hand as he stares out the window. The sky is overcast, and there’s fog over the tops of the trees behind the sports fields. The early fall weather it’s been as bleak as his mood lately, and it will only worsen once winter starts.

The bell startles him out of his reverie. He gathers his things to put them back in his backpack, and when he picks up his notebook, he notices something written on the bottom left corner of his desk.

_do you like music?_

The white surface of the table is unmarred, except for those words written in blue. Minseok’s eyebrows furrow at the smiley face at the end of the sentence. He doesn’t know whether it’s meant for him or not, but he knows this classroom isn’t used by another grade.

He realizes the classroom is almost empty, so he hurries to write _yes_ before leaving to get lunch.

When he comes back later for his afternoon class, the words have been erased, leaving stains over the white of the table. New words are scribbled over it now. _Me too_ , it says, coupled with a little doodle of a face sticking its tongue out playfully. Minseok hides his giggle behind his hand.

He scans the room, but nobody is looking at him to check if he’s seen the note on his desk. He wonders if it must be some kid from another grade for a moment. He searches for a pen in his backpack.

 _you’re not funny_ _ㅋㅋㅋ_

_who are you anyway_

The answer is there the next day, scribbled over the dredges of the erased message from the previous day.

 _I am funny,_ it reads, followed by a doodle of a sad face. It makes Minseok laugh again, and he writes _no, you’re not_ underneath.

Later that night during dinner, Minseok is sitting with Zitao and Baekhyun, the latter talking excitedly about hapkido, which Minseok has never done in his life. He’d always hated sports, and after trying and ending up in his butt most of the time during middle school, he thinks the sentiment was mutual.

Baekhyun gasps at his confession, as though he was personally offended.

“You have to let me teach you one day!” he offers enthusiastically.

Minseok’s eyes drift to the usual table Zitao’s friends sit at during breaks. They’re busy talking to each other, but the doe-eyed one looks up and catches Minseok’s eyes. Minseok quickly looks away when the contact oddly makes his insides turn.

He notices Baekhyun’s eager eyes on him, waiting for his answer. “Maybe,” he hurries to say.

Belatedly, he realizes of his mistake when Zitao gives him an amused smile. They’re both familiar with the strength Baekhyun uses to hang onto their necks or the chokeholds he puts them on to steal their snacks during breaks. Minseok regrets all his decisions in life for a moment.

When Minseok looks up again, the doe-eyed boy is staring at him, but he looks away a second later. Focusing on Zitao’s conversation, he  tries to ignore the fact that his heart is beating faster than it had just a moment before.

 

+

 

There’s a new message on his desk when he goes back to class on Monday. He ignores the way he feels a little excited when he sees it.

_do you want to meet?_

Minseok looks around the classroom; there are a few students on their desks, talking to their friends or doing the assignment last minute. The person closest to his seat, a tall boy with round eyes, is chewing on his pen and tapping his foot as he reads over his homework.

“Hey,” Minseok calls. The boy looks up, startled. “Sorry, can I ask you a question?”

The boy smiles. It eases a bit of the sudden knots in Minseok’s stomach at talking to someone new. “Sure!”

“Have you seen someone else in my seat when I’m not here?”

The boy seems to think over it, his lips in a thin line. “Actually, yeah,” he answers. “It was this guy from another grade… I can’t remember his name.”

The boy’s nose scrunches up a little in thought, and Minseok thinks it’s kind of cute. With his round eyes and brown hair, he reminds Minseok of a puppy.

“But you’re friends with Zitao, right?” the boy says suddenly. Minseok nods, brows furrowed.  “He must know him! He’s his friend.”

Minseok blinks in confusion. Before he can ask anything further, the teacher walks into the room, all the other students who had been milling about in the hallways following close behind.

Baekhyun gives Minseok a smile and a little wave when he spots him. When Zitao smiles at him, Minseok looks away.

“Are you okay?” The boy mouths next to him. Minseok gives him a weak smile and nods.

The teacher goes on to talk about the book they’re reading for this class, but all he can think about are the messages on his desk. Did Zitao know about the messages? Was he or his friends pulling a prank on him?

He can’t imagine confronting Zitao about it, but he wants to find out what’s this all about.

At the end of class, Minseok sucks on his bottom lip before adding a _yes_ below the words. It’s followed by a  sense of thrill that thrums low in his chest.

 

+

 

The answer is there the next day, just like Minseok had anticipated and slightly feared it would be.

_6pm_

_meet me at the oak tree behind the soccer field_

“What?” Minseok murmurs to himself. “Why there?”

“Hi, Minseok!”

Chanyeol’s chirpy voice startles him. He laughs at Minseok’s surprise when he turns to him, and Minseok blushes.

“Hi, Chanyeol,” he says shyly. “How are you?”

Ever since Minseok had asked him about the messages on his desk, Chanyeol had taken to talk to him everyday. Minseok is still shy around strangers, but there’s something about Chanyeol’s cheerfulness and charm that Minseok can’t turn away from.

“I’m good, thank you,” Chanyeol says, grinning as he sits behind his desk, and opens his backpack. His expression falls somewhat as he turns back to Minseok. “Oh, by the way,” he says, “that boy was here in your seat again yesterday.”

“Who is he?” Minseok asks. Chanyeol seems to note the eagerness in his voice because he grins again.

“I came back earlier from lunch and there he was, writing something on your desk,” Chanyeol says. “I asked what  his name was this time.”

He pauses for effect, and seems to relish in the way Minseok is practically holding his breath.

“What’s his name?” Minseok insists.

“Luhan,” Chanyeol answers.

“Oh,” Minseok says. It’s the boy who seems to hate him in Zitao’s group. He tries not to let the disappointment he feels filter into his tone. “Him.”

Chanyeol seems to notice something in his face because his tone turns careful. “I heard he’s a troublemaker. He likes to pull pranks on people and pick fights with other boys.”

His gut twists at the image that forms in his head. Luhan and his friends laughing and pointing at him after pulling a prank on him. Zitao laughing along with them, the words _friend_ and _fool_ spilling from his mouth like acid on Minseok’s skin.

Minseok swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. He nods, his smile tight. “Thanks for telling me, Chanyeol.”

“No problem,” Chanyeol smiles.

He avoids Zitao for the rest of the day. During dinner, he’s thankful that Zitao chooses to eat with his friends that day.

He wants so bad to ask him about whether he knew about the messages, but he’s only known Zitao for a few weeks, while Zitao has probably been friends with Luhan for as long as he’s been in the school.

He thinks about Zitao pretending to be his friend all this time and something aches in his chest.

He finds sleep long after Baekhyun has gone to bed. His heart aches for the comfort of his old home, his grandma’s old movies and the way her papery hands would hold his face before hugging him tightly. He misses his aunt’s jokes and her loud cackle and her pats on his head before she told him to keep his chin up. And Junmyeon, with his sunlit smiles and bright eyes, his gentle words and the even gentler way he used to hold his hand.

But they’re all gone now and Minseok knows better than to miss what’s lost.

He’s always been alone anyway.

 

+

 

Minseok doesn’t expect to find a new message on his desk the next day.

 _why didn’t you show up_ _ㅠㅠㅠㅠ_

Minseok decides to ignore it, but his focus keeps straying from the teacher to the message for the entire class.

It’s still there after he comes back from lunch break, but there’s a new message underneath the previous words.

_did you get lost?_

Minseok ignores that as well, but Luhan doesn’t seem to want to give up on his prank. There are new messages every day, variations the same question: whether he will show up later that day at the meeting spot Luhan told him.

Minseok doesn’t reply to any of them, and by Friday, they stop altogether.

Minseok doesn’t know if he’s relieved. He’d gotten used to finding those messages in his desk; they’d brought a smile to his face when he found a new one at his desk every morning. Now, knowing that it was only a lead up to a prank leaves the bitter taste of disappointment in his mouth. He’s such a fool for thinking that somebody could’ve really cared about him.

He’s still avoiding Zitao. He’d spun on his heels when he’d spotted Zitao coming in the opposite direction in the hallway, and the last thing he’d seen was Zitao’s hand about to wave at him, a question poised in his lips before he turned his back to him.

Baekhyun has seemed to pick up on his mood, because he’s taken to follow Minseok everywhere he goes.

“Are you mad at Zitao?” Baekhyun asks during lunch, mouth full of kimchi. Minseok scrunches his nose, but laughs all the same at Baekhyun.

“I’m not mad,” Minseok says. “It’s just… confusing.”

“Everything is confusing about you,” Baekhyun says offhandedly, poking at his food with his chopsticks.

Minseok looks up from his food, eyebrows raised in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Well, your taste in music for starters,” Baekhyun says. “I can count in one hand how many people I know who listen to French music, and it’d only be you, Minseokkie.” His voice lowers, his tone more serious. “And you never talk about your family either.”

Minseok chews on his lower lip. Suddenly, he isn’t hungry anymore. “I just like that kind of music,” he mumbles. He doesn’t mean for his tone to sound defensive, but it does.

Baekhyun regards him for a moment, and then laughs, his genuine, airy laugh. “It’s alright,” he says. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready. Or not. It’s alright with me.”

Minseok smiles, feeling relief flooding his chest. What he did to have a friend like Baekhyun, he doesn’t know. “Thank you,” he says, feeling a tad embarrassed at how earnest he sounds.

Baekhyun’s smile is kind, though. “No problem, Minseokkie. What are  friends—”

Baekhyun’s words die in his tongue suddenly, as two boys pass by their table. His eyes follow one of them, a tall, lanky, pale boy, who greets him with a wave and a toothy grin. Baekhyun’s voice is chirpier than usual when he greets back.

Minseok raises his eyebrows when Baekhyun turns back to him. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Baekhyun repeats, his tone light. Minseok’s brows knit with suspicion.

“With that boy?” Minseok asks.

“What boy?” Baekhyun asks in turn, taking a bite of his rice cake.

The stare Minseok sends him is unimpressed, but Baekhyun, by the pull of his lips, finds it amusing.

“I hate you, Byun Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun licks the sauce from his lips and grins. “And I love you.”

The look on Baekhyun’s face when he saw that boy was all too familiar to Minseok. But he figures his friend is entitled to have his own secrets as well.

Baekhyun makes kissy faces at him, his lips stained with sauce. “You love me!”

“Shut up,” Minseok laughs, pushing Baekhyun’s face away. “You’re gross.”

As Baekhyun laughs loudly, Minseok thinks they might be even more similar than he’d thought.

 

+

 

On a Saturday, Minseok wakes to the gentle patter of rain on his window.

Baekhyun is snoring softly in his bed, so Minseok quietly picks up his clothes and leaves the room. He washes and dresses in the deserted bathrooms; it’s too early for anyone to be up yet on the weekend.

The hallways are silent, but Minseok finds that quiet peaceful and calm. It reminds him of days at his old home, when the rain would beat down on his windows and the thunders were too loud. He’d sneak into his parent’s room, and his mother would take one look at him and pull the covers aside for him. She’d hug him all night because that was the only way he’d sleep through the storm.

A familiar ache rises in his chest at the memory of his mother. He promptly pushes it away as his footsteps quicken when he gets to the first floor. He stands under the archway to the fields, the rain having turned into a drizzle. He pulls the hood of his red windbreaker up over his head, and ambles into the field.

There’s the smell of wet grass and the air is warm with the remnants of rain. He walks past the soccer field until he stands in the edge of the woods surrounding the school. The woods are still, with only the sounds of birds in the trees disrupting the quiet.

He imagines Baekhyun there with him, his high-pitched laugh resonating through the woods, and he giggles to himself at the thought. He decides he’s going to ask Baekhyun to come with him next time before he plods into the woods, careful to not trip over roots protruding from the ground.

A loose drop falls from a leaf and rolls down his face when he stands in front of a big oak tree, its trunk thick as a car and its branches drooping to the ground. It looks imposing in its size, almost magical in the middle of the woods. Minseok presses his palm to the trunk, damp still with the remnants of rain.

He startles and turns when he hears the sound of a stick cracking behind him. The doe-eyed boy, Luhan, stands there, watching him with cautious eyes.

Minseok opens his mouth, to make an excuse, anything, but words don’t come to him. His heart is racing in his chest.

The air feels charged between them, but it’s not because of the rain. A moment later, Luhan’s lips curl, releasing air through his nostrils in an amused sound.

“So you came anyway,” Luhan says. “Took you long enough.”

Minseok remembers the messages and the prank Luhan was going to pull on him. His stomach clenches; he needs to go now.

“I—” Minseok starts. “I think I should leave.”

“No, don’t,” Luhan says, his hand coming up to stop him. Minseok stares, surprised. “Stay for a minute.”

Minseok’s eyebrows knit. “Why?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Luhan says. There’s hesitation in his voice and the way he shifts from one foot to the other. “Just for a moment.”

Minseok is so confused. “Why?” he asks. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Luhan watches him, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. Minseok waits, but nothing seems to come.

“I… I know it was you who wrote those messages in my desk,” Minseok says, forcing his voice to stay firm. “Why did you do that for?”

Luhan averts his eyes. It looks like he’s embarrassed, but Minseok doubts it.

“Was it a prank?” Minseok presses on. He balls up his fists by his sides. “Because it’s not going to work.”

Luhan’s thin mouth pulls down in one end and his brow furrows. He looks mad all of a sudden, and Minseok feels his earlier courage slip away like raindrops through the leaves.

“Look, if you want to leave,” he snaps, “just leave! I don’t care!”

Minseok watches him for a second, torn between saying something or leaving. In the end, Minseok briskly walks past him and out of the woods. When he gets to the edge of the woods, he looks back, but Luhan doesn’t follow him.

 

+

 

Zitao finally confronts him on Monday, when Minseok is on his way to his room from the library.

“Okay, are you mad at me or something?” Zitao asks, hands on his hips. “Because you haven’t spoken more than two words to me in the past two weeks and I can’t for the life of me think of what I did wrong.”

Minseok flinches at the hurt laced in his voice. But then he remembers Luhan in the woods, and doesn’t let his conviction waver.

“I know about Luhan writing those messages in my desk,” Minseok says. Zitao’s eyebrows lift quizzically. “Did you know about whatever he was planning to do with that?”

Zitao shakes his head slowly, confusion still clear in his face. “He never told me about any messages,” he says. “But I don’t think he meant anything bad with it.”

The conviction in Zitao’s voice clears some of the doubt in Minseok. “Are you sure?” he asks. “Why didn’t he tell you?”

The curl in Zitao’s lips is enigmatic. “I think that’s a question for him,” he says. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Something about the way he says it makes Minseok think he actually knows about his reasons. He doesn’t press it, though.

He does, however, feel incredibly dumb for giving Zitao the cold shoulder without knowing if he had any real involvement in Luhan’s plans.

“I’m really sorry for avoiding you,” Minseok says quietly, his eyes on his shoes. “I thought you and your friends—I don’t know—”

“It’s okay,” Zitao says. His hand rests on Minseok’s shoulder. Minseok looks up, surprised. “I’m sure Luhan and the others don’t give off the most trustworthy vibe anyway. So I forgive you.”

Minseok smiles. “Thank you.”

“Now, can you help me with Math homework?” Zitao asks, pouting. “I know you’re good at it.”

“Is that my punishment for ignoring you?” Minseok laughs when Zitao shrugs. “Okay, I’ll help you.”

 

+

 

Minseok doesn’t expect a new message on his desk a week later.

He’d come in a little earlier that day to revise for a Biology test. There aren’t many students in the classroom yet, aside for people like him in their desks with their books open in front of them.

When Minseok makes to pull out his textbook out of his backpack, he notices the message written in the bottom left corner of his desk as usual. But this time there are only two words:

_i’m sorry_

Minseok stares at the message for a bit, and doesn’t know what to make of it. Is Luhan apologizing for snapping at him at the woods? Or is he admitting to his plan to pull a prank on Minseok?

His thoughts are interrupted by people coming up to his desk. He looks up to find three boys, staring down at him with disdain. It makes Minseok want to recoil in his seat.

“What are you reading?” the tallest one asks with a sneer.

Minseok had seen him taunting other kids during breaks, dropping their lunches into garbage cans or throwing balls to people during gym class. Minseok doesn’t trust himself to answer; his hands are starting to shake over his thighs.

“I said what are you reading!”

His voice rings loud in the now quiet classroom. He bares his teeth in a smirk. It doesn’t look handsome in his face.

“Aren’t you going to answer me?” Kris snarls. He swipes the textbook, throwing it to the floor. Minseok jumps. “Listen, you little shit—”

“Leave him the fuck alone, Kris!”

Luhan pushes Kris until he crashes with the wall. One of the boys holds Luhan back, who elbows him to let him go. Kris is gingerly touching his temple, his small mouth pulled down in a frown. It looks almost comical, but Minseok is too shaky to laugh.

“Is he your boyfriend or something?” Kris snarls. He pushes Luhan, but he doesn’t move an inch. “What the fuck do you care!”

“Just go away, Kris,” Luhan demands. There’s something fierce in his face and tone that makes Minseok stare.

“You’ll fucking pay for this later,” Kris says, stabbing his index finger into Luhan’s chest.

He shoves past Luhan as he leaves, the other two boys walking after him.

Luhan turns to Minseok, and his face loses the sharpness from before. His lips part as though to say something, but a beat passes and nothing comes. He bends down, instead, to pick up Minseok’s textbook and places it back on the desk. Minseok wants to thank him, but he still can’t find his voice.

The teacher comes in then, and Luhan spares Minseok one last glance before striding out of the classroom. Minseok watches him, speechless, and it takes him a few moments to stop shaking and follow the class.

There’s little in his mind besides Luhan, their encounter in the woods and his defending him from Kris, for the rest of the day.

 

+

 

Minseok sees Luhan again on Friday when he’s going to the library to do his homework. He and Baekhyun had been hanging out in Zitao’s room when he’d decided to listen to his DEUX album for the entire school to hear, and Minseok couldn’t focus for the life of him.

He startles when he runs into someone just as steps into the hallway. Luhan’s eyes are wide in surprise, but then his lips curl into a smile that catches Minseok off-guard.

“Hey,” Luhan says. “Minseok…”

“Th—Thank you,” Minseok blurts out. Luhan’s eyes open again. “For the other day. You shouldn’t have done that for me. You could’ve gotten into trou—”

“No, Kris’ ugly face shouldn’t have done that,” Luhan cuts in. “And it’s alright. I don’t like Kris anyway.”

Minseok smiles. “Okay,” he says. “Thank you.”

“I already told you,” Luhan stresses. There’s no heat to his words. “It’s alright.”

Minseok grins, abashed under Luhan’s eyes. He’s wearing a faded-red, thick sweater, and it looks so soft Minseok almost wants to reach out and touch it. His dark brown hair is a bit ruffled, probably from the wind outside, and under the late afternoon light streaming from the windows, his eyes look a soft shade of brown. That, paired with the way his lips twitch, makes Minseok’s stomach tighten.

“So, I came to see Zitao,” Luhan says. “And I’m guessing from the awful music coming from his room that he’s there right now.”

Minseok chuckles. “Yep, I’m going to the library to do my homework because I can’t get anything done there,” he says. “So, I’ll see you around?”

“Sure!” Luhan says. “You should eat dinner with us tonight.”

Minseok’s almost taken aback by how earnest Luhan’s voice is. But he smiles, and stutters an _okay!,_ that makes Luhan grin. Minseok swears his heart did not just skip a beat.

He spends the entire trek to the library thinking about that smile, and swearing to himself it’s not the reason he’s smiling into his Chemistry homework.

 

+

 

During dinner, a shout of his name across the cafeteria startles Minseok.

Luhan is gesturing with his hand at him to come sit with him and his friends. The boy with a cat-like smile is sitting beside him and the boy who looks spacy is on his other side. All three pairs of eyes are on him now, expectant, and it makes Minseok want to turn on in his heels and go back to his room.

Minseok turns to Baekhyun, who was going to eat his dinner with him. If his wide-eyed look flickering from Luhan to Minseok is anything to go by, he is as bewildered as Minseok feels.

“Go sit with them if you want,” he says with a sweet smile. “It’s okay.”

He feels a little panicked at the prospect of sitting with near-strangers without any other friend, but he doesn’t want to admit this to Baekhyun. “Are you sure?” Minseok asks.

“You, too, Byun!” Luhan says, beckoning him with a hand. “C’mon, you need an invite or what?”

Baekhyun turns to Minseok, gaping, his thin eyebrows raised. People are starting to look, so Minseok shrugs before walking to the table, not wanting to keep Luhan waiting any longer.

Luhan greets them with a grin when Minseok sits across from him, and Minseok returns it smaller and sheepish. Next to him, the boy’s lips curl into a pleased smile, like a cat who has just been fed, as his eyes go from Minseok to Luhan.

“What took you so long?” Luhan asks. His tone is light. “I thought I would have to drag you here to sit with us.”

“We don’t bite,” the boy beside Luhan says. “Well, maybe Yixing, when he’s had a bit too much to drink…”

“That was one time, Jongdae,” the boy to the left of Luhan counters. “Shut up.”

As dinner goes on, Zitao joins them in the middle of Jongdae and Yixing’s bickering. Baekhyun becomes familiar enough with all of them pretty soon to make jokes and tease them despite his initial reservations, but Minseok is not very surprised; Baekhyun’s always been good at making friends with anyone in his proximity.

He catches Luhan’s eyes on him a few times throughout the meal. Minseok laughs at Baekhyun’s jokes or Jongdae teasing Yixing, and Luhan’s eyes immediately settle on him, as though drawn by a magnet. There’s that soft smile on his lips again that makes Minseok’s chest fill with a kind of warmth that is all too familiar to him. Terrifyingly familiar.

It’s the same kind of warmth that would envelope his heart with Junmyeon’s bright smiles last summer. He draws in a breath as realization makes dread sink its fangs into his spine.

 _Oh no,_ he thinks _._ And then, more wearily, _not this again._

He pushes all traitorous thoughts into a box at the back of his mind when he notices Zitao and Jongdae looking at him curiously. He averts his eyes quickly to his plate, and doesn’t say much for the rest of the meal.

 

+

 

Minseok is startled when books are dropped in front of him while he’s studying in the library one afternoon. He looks up to see Luhan smiling down at him.

“Mind if I join you?”

Ever since his revelation about his feelings for Luhan, Minseok had tried to keep his distance from him, but said boy wasn’t cooperating. Luhan and his friends sit everyday at lunch and dinner with them now, and even during breaks, whenever Zitao is around. Luhan always tries to strike conversation with Minseok, and he’d realized he’d misjudged Luhan at first. Luhan is loud and loves to joke around, but he’s also smart and confident, and Minseok can’t help but feel the pull of attraction at even the smallest glance.

“Yes,” Minseok says, tone teasing. “But I know you’re going to sit anyway.”

Luhan laughs, loud enough to be heard over the silence of the library. The students in the next table over send him reproachful looks, but quickly avert their eyes when Luhan returns their gaze.

“So what are you studying?” Luhan asks as he takes the seat across from Minseok.

“Literature?” Minseok asks. “What you should be studying, too?”

Luhan’s lips quirk in a smirk. Minseok doesn’t want to find him as attractive as he does.

“I already read that book anyway,” Luhan says. “My dad used to love French press coffee so I know all about that subject already.”

“You do?” Minseok asks. Luhan shrugs. “I prefer drip brew coffee.”

“Really?” Luhan asks. The surprise in his face makes his eyes more round. It pulls a small smile in Minseok’s lips. “I didn’t take you for the coffee type. More like the chocolate milk type.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid!” Minseok exclaims, leaning forward to slug Luhan on the arm. Luhan laughs, and covers his mouth with a hand when it earns a loud shush from the other students. “And don’t you dare make a joke about my height.”

Luhan snickers are muffled by his hand. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You’re just… cute like that.”

Minseok blinks rapidly, thinking he’d heard wrong. There’s a blush painting Luhan’s cheeks, and he looks anywhere but Minseok. “What?”

“Nothing!”

“You just called me cute!” Minseok laughs. His heart is racing and his cheeks are burning, but he ignores it all to laugh at Luhan’s face. “You did! I heard you!”

“Okay, I did say it!” Luhan admits. His face is red now, and Minseok has to hide his laughter behind his hand. “But you’re… you know…”

“Cute?” Minseok prompts. Luhan stops fumbling with words, and purses his mouth into a thin line. Minseok frames his face with his hand and smiles sweetly. “Am I cute, Lu ge?”

Luhan’s eyes widen, his mouth parted. Minseok finally feels self-conscious, and he drops his hands to his lap. He’s about to say something, anything, to break the awkward silence, but Luhan beats him to it.

“Did you just call me Lu ge?”

His tone is laced with disbelief and his eyes are still round, shining with something like wonder. Minseok would giggle and call him _dumb_ , but he’s feeling quite dumb himself.

“Yeah, that’s okay, right?” Minseok shrugs. “I hear Zitao calling you that all the time, so…”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Luhan says. His lips curl into a gentle smile, and Minseok is almost taken aback by the wartm that spills from his heart and fills his chest.“It’s just… it’s nice. Hearing you say it.”

“Oh okay,” Minseok says dumbly. The blush in Luhan’s face has mostly receded to his ears, but Minseok’s face still feels like it’s on fire. He clears his throat. “Can I still call you dumb, though?”

“Minseok-ah, why are you so mean,” Luhan whines teasingly. His bottom lip is pulled out, and he looks so cute Minseok wants to yell. “And here I was thinking of taking you to my favorite café on our visit to town next week.”

“Really?” Minseok asks. Luhan nods eagerly. His heartbeat quickens again. “Okay. As long as you’re paying.”

“Okay, okay, I don’t mind,” Luhan says. “I’ll treat you to some baozis in this really nice place I know.” He pauses. His smile broadens, and Minseok blinks, as though he was looking directly into the sun. “ _Baozi_.”

“Did you just call me baozi?”

“Well, you look like one!” Luhan says, and leans forward to pinch Minseok’s cheeks. “With that pale skin and those round cheeks!” Minseok moves away, laughing, but Luhan chases him, half lying over the table now.

“Excuse me?” Both of them turn to see the librarian standing with a stern look on her face. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

They burst into laughter as soon as they leave the library. They see the librarian walking up to them again, and all of a sudden, Luhan takes his hand and starts running. It’s the first time Minseok has ever been kicked out of a place in his life, and he thinks he would feel something, but he finds that it doesn’t matter much, when he’s running with Luhan down the hallways, laughter in his mouth and the sun in his eyes and Luhan’s warmth in his hand.

It doesn’t matter at all when he has never felt so free.

 

+

 

“Minseokkie,” Baekhyun whines, “would you help me with my homework, please?”

They’re sitting on the bleachers of the soccer field while the team practices. The autumn breeze ruffles their hair, but the sky overhead is clear. Minseok and Zitao are sitting on the top of the bleachers, their Biology textbooks and notebooks open over their laps, Baekhyun on the bench below, all puppy eyes and pouting mouth. Baekhyun knows Minseok can’t resist him when he looks at him like that.

Minseok gives him a wary look. “You mean _do_ your homework for you,” he says. “Don’t think I don’t know you, Byun Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun groans. He drags a hand through his hair as he exhales. “I just can’t understand this stuff!”

“You would understand it better if you didn’t sleep through the whole class,” Minseok says. His tone is more teasing than chiding, but Baekhyun’s lips curl downwards anyway.

“I just hate school,” Baekhyun says. “I’m so glad in only a few months I’ll be saying goodbye to school forever.”

“It’s not soon enough,” Zitao says, looking up from his textbook.

There are loud cheers in the field; Luhan has managed to score a goal and now Yixing is running towards him, arms extended to hold him in a victory hug. Minseok chuckles at their silliness, the way Jongdae pulls Luhan into a chokehold as soon as Yixing releases him. Luhan looks their way, smile too bright, and Minseok looks away, his insides turning.

“Lu ge is such a show-off,” Zitao laughs, voice laced with fondness. “He looks over here everytime he scores.”

“It’s because he wants to check if Minseokkie is paying attention,” Baekhyun says, eyebrows wiggling. “He clings to him like a leech lately.” He opens his eyes wide and sweeps his hair to one side like a sloppy imitation of Luhan. “Minseok, are you eating with us today? Minseok, are you going to the library? Minseok, do you know how to read? Because I suddenly can’t do my homework alone. Minseok—”

“Look who’s talking,” Minseok says. “You always end up bribing me into doing your homework for you.”

“And you always end up helping me anyway,” Baekhyun says. “But don’t change the subject! Luhan is like your shadow now.”

“He isn’t,” Minseok says. “He just likes me, I guess.”

He sees Luhan wipe the sweat off his face with his shirt, a sliver of his abdomen showing with the motion. His hair is soaked enough that his bangs stand in all directions when Luhan lowers his shirt. Minseok can’t stop looking. Luhan catches his eyes and grins. Minseok manages a sheepish smile, his heart racing in his chest suddenly, before it becomes too much, and he averts his gaze.

Zitao is giving him an odd look. Minseok drops his eyes to his textbook, willing himself to forget about the way Luhan smiled when he looked at him, and the way it makes his chest flutter.

 

+

 

There’s mass on Sunday morning on the school’s chapel. Light streams through the arched windows and the pastor’s voice carries through the chapel, going over the heads of the sleepy students filling the pews.

Zitao sits beside Minseok, his arms crossed over his chest and his head bobbing every five minutes. His head snaps up every time Baekhyun elbows him, and Minseok laughs at the two of them.

Luhan sends him one of his mischievous grins next to him, and Minseok bumps his shoulders with him. “Shut up,” Minseok whispers.

Luhan makes an unimpressed face. “Me?” he whispers back. “I haven’t said anything.”

Luhan’s eyes are bright on him, and Minseok pushes him lightly, to make him look away and to hide the blush that spreads on his cheeks whenever Luhan’s stares at him for too long.

“You’re so mean to me,” Luhan whines.

Minseok chuckles at Luhan’s pout. Luhan pinches his cheek, and laughs when Minseok bats his hand away. He’d taken to do that in the past few weeks, as well as calling him  _baozi_ no matter how many times Minseok scowled at him. He doesn’t want to acknowledge that, the nickname and the way Luhan smiles when he says it, the way it rolls off his tongue with endearment, makes his insides melt like the snow on the soccer field. He doesn’t know what to do with it.

Even now, as his hand brushes the back of Luhan’s between them, he feels sparks running through his body, setting his skin aflame. But he doesn’t remove his hand and Luhan doesn’t make to pull it back to his lap.

“You’re at an age when temptations are everywhere you look, right?” the pastor asks. It earns a few chuckles from the students. “You want to drink or do drugs because other people tell you to… Or even look at your friend like a man sees a woman.”

The pastor pauses, his eyes roaming over his audience. Minseok stiffens, suddenly feeling the bottom drop out of his stomach. Luhan seems to feel his nervousness because he turns his head just the slightest to watch Minseok.

“You don’t have to give into those temptations,” the pastor continues. “Always remember  to stay close to God’s light. Don’t do things to your body because it’s God’s temple for you. And remember, he made man and woman to be together. Any other way is unnatural.”

Minseok remembers Junmyeon’s laughter in his ears, his smile so bright under the summer’s sun, and his lips, soft and warm like the sunlight, so light over his own.

Minseok suddenly finds it hard to breathe. Luhan seems to sense something is wrong, because his hand strokes Minseok’s, but Minseok pulls away before he can take it in his grasp. He feels Luhan’s eyes fixed on the side of his face, but Minseok keeps his gaze on his hands over his lap for the rest of the mass.

 

+

 

Minseok skips lunch that day. He’s lying in bed, arms behind his head, listening to Édith Piaf singing about La Vie en Rose when there’s a knock at the door.

He gets up with a sigh, and lowers the volume  in his turntable before opening. His heart skips a beat when he sees Luhan there, giving him an easy smile.

“Why are you hiding here?” Luhan asks before Minseok can’t get a word out. “You skipped lunch. You need to eat if you want to grow more.”

“Shut up,” Minseok says. He slugs Luhan in the arm, who only laughs. “You sound like one of our teachers.”

“I’m offended,” Luhan says somberly, hand on his chest. He laughs when Minseok does.

“What are you doing here?” Minseok asks. “You’re missing lunch, too.”

Luhan pulls out a food container from behind his back. “Ta-da!” he sing-songs. “Brought you some jajangmyeon I stole from the kitchens.”

“Luhan!” Minseok exclaims, reproachful. Luhan looks delighted. “You have to give that back!”

“You’re so gullible!” Luhan laughs. Minseok tries to scowl at him, but he can barely hold back a smile. “Of course I bought it from them. I know all the ahjummas working there and they always give me food whenever I sneak in to say hi.”

“How would I know that?” Minseok asks, crossing his arms. “You’re a troublemaker, after all.”

“Hey, be grateful I just saved you from starvation,” Luhan returns. “Well, are we eating or not?”

Minseok snorts. He opens the door wider to let Luhan into his room. “Okay, I’m letting you in just because I’m really hungry.”

Minseok goes to sit on his bed and watches as Luhan looks around, taking everything in. His eyes sweep over the pictures over Minseok’s desk and the turntable over the dresser. Édith Piaf’s mournful voice still sings lowly from the record.

“Do you like French music?” he asks, his eyes on the box of vinyls next to the dresser.

“Yeah,” is all Minseok says. He always feels a bit self-conscious; he’s aware it’s not a very normal musical taste for a teenage boy. But Luhan seems curious, his round eyes taking everything in, and it loosens some of the knots in his stomach.

He opens the plastic box just to have something to do. Luhan sits across from him in the bed without another word, and he takes two pairs of chopsticks from his jacket pockets and hands two to Minseok. Next, he takes a bottle of orange juice from his other pocket and places it on the bed.

“What else do you have in there?” Minseok jokes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Luhan teases him, chopsticks in hand.

“You’re ridiculous,” Minseok mumbles. He hopes his cheeks aren’t burning bright red. “I don’t know why I let you into my room.”

“Because you like me as much as you like jajangmyeon,” Luhan says, grinning.

Minseok feels heat at the base of his neck, rising to his face. Luhan’s grin is so bright, with the sunlight from the window on his eyes, and Minseok’s heart stumbles in his chest. “Shut up,” he murmurs, turning to his food. “I don’t like you.”

Luhan chuckles, and murmurs something like _whatever you say._ They eat in silence for a while, just the slurping of noodles (Luhan’s doing) and the uncapping of the orange juice (Minseok’s doing) filling the room.

“I like the pictures over your desk,” Luhan says midway through their shared meal.

Minseok takes a look at them. They are pictures and postcards from when her mother stayed in Paris and did a little tour through Italy and Spain. He’d found them in a box in her grandmother’s attic a couple of years ago, and had saved them like a treasure since then.

“My mother took them,” he says, “when she was young and studying abroad.”

Luhan hums. “I went to Europe when I was young, but don’t remember much of it,” he says. “My dad used to travel a lot. He still does, I guess. But he used to take me with him when I was a kid.”

There’s a tinge of melancholy to his voice that Minseok can tell Luhan is trying to keep light. He doesn’t comment on it.

“Do you want to meet up later tonight?” Luhan asks. “After everyone’s gone to bed.”

Minseok watches him. He thinks about asking why or where, but it doesn’t cross his mind to say no. It sends a thrill through him, the thought of spending time alone with Luhan at night, where everyone’s gone to bed, that he can barely hold down.

“Okay,” he says. “What time?”

Luhan’s smile makes his skin prickle. There’s relief in his eyes like he’d expected Minseok to say no.

“I’ll come pick you up,” he says. His lips are stained dark with the soybean paste. He winks. “It’s a date, then.”

 

+

 

Luhan knocks on his door close to midnight. Minseok had had to wait until Baekhyun went to bed, and now as he snores softly, his back turned to him, Minseok slips away quietly. Luhan is waiting against the wall opposite his door, and smiles lopsidedly when he sees him.

“Hello,” he says, leaning away from the wall. “Took you long enough.”

They wander through the hallways, the moonlight pouring from the tall windows casting shadows everywhere.

They hear footsteps coming before turning a corner. Luhan takes his hand and drags him to an adjacent classroom. He pushes his body against a wall and cages him there with his body and his hands pressed against the wall. Luhan’s breath ghosts over his cheek, warm in the cold of night.

He’s afraid of moving in case he touches Luhan. If Luhan were to turn his head just a few inches, his lips would brush Minseok’s. Minseok’s heart is pounding in his chest.

“I think he already left,” Minseok whispers.

All he can hear is Luhan’s breathing, and his own heart, resonating through his body. It takes a few heartbeats until Luhan swallows, and nods once before moving away.

“Let’s go,” Luhan says. His voice sounds raspy, almost breathless, but he clears his throat before opening the door. He lets Minseok get out first after checking the hallway, and follows him.

When they get to the first floor, Luhan groans when he looks up at the rain trickling down the windows.

“I wanted us to go to the forest,” he says. “But it’s raining, and I know neither you or me want to get soaked wet.”

Minseok hums a laugh. He thinks it’s a little endearing how much Luhan wants Minseok to visit the oak tree with him. “I guess not,” he says. “But we can go when it’s clear.”

Luhan smiles. He takes his hand, all of a sudden, and leads him down the hallway. Minseok thinks about pulling away, but he finds he doesn’t want to. Luhan’s hand is soft and warm in his.

Luhan takes him to a wooden door that leads to a side of the chapel. Their footsteps echo as they enter.

“Luhan, are you sure this is—”

“Shh,” Luhan says, throwing him a smirk over his shoulder. “There’s no one here anyway. It’s okay.”

He lets Luhan take him by the hand to a pew in the middle of the chapel.  Luhan lets go of his hand, and Minseok tries not to feel disappointed. He looks up to see the paintings behind the podium,  slightly scary in the darkness of the chapel.

“I used to love going to church when I was a kid,” Luhan says. His eyes are on the Christ hanging from the wall.

“I never pegged you for the kind of kid who went to church every sunday,” Minseok teases him.

“I didn’t like it because it was church exactly, but more because my family would always get together for mass, you know,” Luhan says. Then there’s a smile, but it’s rueful. “Dad was never at home and mom wasn’t really there either… but every sunday they would make me wear the best suits and we’d go to church together and then get lunch in a fancy restaurant.”

Minseok can’t help but just stare at Luhan. His eyes look so sad, and his smile so wistful it makes him want to hold his hand until it goes away. But he doesn’t, and instead, he keeps his hands to himself.

“Why don’t you go to church with them anymore?” Minseok asks cautiously.

“They got divorced when I was fourteen,” Luhan says. “It was one hell of a custody battle, but I went with mom. She sent me to all these boarding schools in the end. This is the first I haven’t been expelled from in two years.”

“Wow,” Minseok says. “Baekhyun was right. You _are_ a troublemaker.”

“Did Byun say that?” Luhan asks, his feature lightening. “We’re gonna have a little chat when I see him next.”

“Please, don’t. I don’t think Baekhyun would take it,” Minseok says. “You’d laugh because he looks like a puppy when he’s angry and he’d kick your ass with his hapkido moves.”

Luhan laughs, and even though it rings loud in the silent church, Minseok’s chest feels lighter at the sound.

“He does look like a puppy, doesn’t he,” Luhan says. “You sort of look like a cat.”

“Me?” Minseok asks. Luhan nods, his smile earnest. It makes warmth pool in Minseok’s cheeks. “I don’t know. I don’t really like cats. My mom used to have one when I was a kid, but I only know from pictures.”

“Why?” Luhan asks. Then his voice lowers and turns careful. “Where are your parents?”

“They died in a car accident when I was ten,” Minseok says. There’s the pang in his heart that the memory always brings, but he’s more than familiar with it at his point. “It’s okay,” he assures Luhan, when he starts to look a little panicked. “It happened so long ago, I don’t even remember most of it.”

He does remember missing them everyday since then. He remembers asking his aunt and grandmother about them and search the house for every sign of them, any item that had once belonged to them, and keep them safe to himself like a treasure.

“I’m sorry,” Luhan says. “I’m so sorry, Minseok.”

He’d noticed Luhan always tends to call everyone by his last names, even his oldest friends like Jongdae and Yixing, but with Minseok is always just Minseok. It makes him feel giddy, even though he tells himself it must mean nothing.

Luhan turns his hand over his thigh, his palm skyward. Minseok slides his hand over Luhan’s easily, and lets his fingers tangle with his own. His heart tumbles in his chest.

“It’s okay, Luhan,” Minseok says. “I don’t even remember how it happened or their voices sound… It made me really sad when I realized, but when I start to miss them I go through their pictures or my mom’s albums. She loved French music when she studied there.”

“Are those her albums in your room?” Luhan asks.

“Yeah, I found them at my grandmother’s house, in my mom’s old room,” Minseok says. “And my dad went to this school. When I miss him, I just think that he might’ve done the same thing I’m doing and I feel a little better.”

Luhan’s smile turns soft, as well as his eyes fixed on Minseok. “I wish I was a little more like you.”

Minseok’s brows furrow. “Why?” he asks. _There’s nothing special about me_ , he wants to say.

“Because you’re so mature and cool,” Luhan says. “And you’re very cute, too.”

Minseok feels like his face is burning. “Shut up! I am _not_ cute!”

“Yes, you _are_ ,” Luhan insists. He squeezes Minseok’s hand in his grasp. “And if you ever tell anyone I said the word ‘cute’, you’re dead.”

Minseok’s eyebrows raise. “How did you go from calling me cute to threatening me?”

Luhan laughs. “I guess that’s my charm.”

Minseok smiles, and, in a moment of bravery, he lets his head rest on Luhan’s shoulder. He feels Luhan stiffen next to him for a second, and then he relaxes, scooting just a bit closer to Minseok.

An hour later, when Luhan drops Minseok by his room, he almost expects Luhan to lean in and kiss him just like he’s seen people do in the movies after a date.

He holds his breath when Luhan does lean in, but it is his ear his lips touch instead of his mouth.

“I had a good time tonight. Thanks for coming with me,” he whispers. Then he leans back, and grins. “See you later.”

He walks backwards a few steps, eyes still locked with Minseok’s. Minseok watches long after he turns and disappears around the corner. Only then he steps inside his room, and slumps on his bed, a grin stretched across his face as he holds his pillow, heaving a sigh, deeply buried from his heart.

 

+

 

Minseok receives a postcard from Junmyeon for Christmas. He’s walking back to the dorms with Zitao and Baekhyun when he sees it behind his aunt’s letter, and he stops in his tracks in surprise when he recognizes the neat handwriting.

Baekhyun and Zitao stop after a few steps and turn to him. “What’s wrong?” Baekhyun asks.

“Nothing,” Minseok stutters. He presses the letters to his chest. “I’m going to the library for a bit—I forgot something for our Chemistry assignment.  I'll catch you later, okay?”

Zitao narrows his eyes at him, suspicious, but Baekhyun merely nods and gives him a little wave. “See you at dinner later!”

He waits for his friends to round the corner before he makes his way to the dorms. Back in his room, Minseok holds the postcard in front of him while he lies in bed, turning it over in his hands and reading the words until he can recite them in his head with Junmyeon’s gentle voice. It’d been a sound that had accompanied Minseok through good and bad times during the years they were inseparable, and until that day, he finds himself missing that familiarity, the comfort that his best friend’s presence brought him.

The change in Junmyeon’s role in his head had surprised him quite little, after he’d become aware of his feelings for Luhan.

He turns the postcard in his hand once again, and then takes a book from his nightstand and slides it within its pages.

 

+

 

“I have something to tell you,” Baekhyun tells him one day after class while they’re lounging in the bleachers after class.

He’s uncharacteristically serious and the edge of distress in his voice makes panic rise in Minseok’s chest. He tries to keep it down as he smiles.

“Sure,” he says. “What is it?”

“Have you ever had a crush on someone you shouldn’t?” he asks. His voice is stilted, the corners of his mouth downturned. His gaze, though, is measured, as though he knows Minseok’s answer.

His immediate thought is Luhan, and he tries to keep out of his face any clue to his thoughts.

“Yes,” Minseok answers carefully. “Why?”

Baekhyun regards him for a beat, his teeth nibbling on his lip. Finally, he takes a breath, and then, in one quick exhale, he says, “I think I like a boy.”

“Oh,” is all Minseok says. He schools his face back into impassivity when he sees Baekhyun drop his eyes to his hands. “I’m just—surprised, sorry. But that’s—it’s alright!”

Baekhyun snaps his head up, surprise in his wide eyes. “Is it?” he asks, quietly. “Are you okay with it?”

Minseok nods, smiling. “I think it’s okay to like whoever you like,” Minseok says. He smiles, then, thinking of words he’d heard in Junmyeon’s gentle tone once upon a time, when he’d come to the same realization. _It’s okay if you like boys_ , Junmyeon had said, _you’re still Minseok to me_. “It doesn’t say anything about you.”

He sees the tension leave Baekhyun in an exhale, and his shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you, Minseok.”

There’s wonder in his tone, as though he can’t believe Minseok is okay with it. Minseok can understand that feeling. It’d felt like a building had been lifted off his shoulders when Junmyeon had simply smiled and held his hand, and Minseok had known that it was okay as long as his best friend still loved him. Later, though, when that smile had pressed against his in a kiss, Minseok doesn’t think he’d ever been so happy that somebody accepted and loved him for who he was.

He thinks he owes Junmyeon some of the confidence and comfort he’s trying to pass to Baekhyun now. He waves his hand, airily, and smiles gently at Baekhyun. It feels like victory when it draws a chuckle from Baekhyun, the dread having mostly abandoned him.

“It’s okay,” Minseok says. “Don’t let what people say about it get to you.”

Baekhyun nods. “I’ll try,” he says, his eyes falling to his lap. “But sometimes… it’s hard.”

Baekhyun’s lips are pulled tight. Minseok reaches out to rest a hand on his knee. “I understand,” he says. “But you’ll get there someday.”

Baekhyun considers him for a moment. “Your crush… it’s Luhan, right?”

There’s the prick of fear on his nape that he can’t quite get rid of yet. He gapes, looking for words, but Baekhyun’s knowing smile beats him to it.

“It’s okay,” he says, in the same reassuring tone as Minseok’s earlier. “You both look cute together.”

His tone is teasing, and Minseok scowls at him. “I’m not cute!” he protests. “And don’t ever let Luhan hear you calling him cute. I don’t think you’ll be able to function well without limbs.”

Baekhyun pulls a terrified face and mock-shivers. “Wouldn’t want to happen,” he says.

“Can I ask… who is your crush now that you know mine?” Minseok asks, smiling playfully.

Baekhyun bites his lip for a second. “It’s this kid named Sehun,” he admits a moment later. “He’s a freshmen.”

Minseok had seen Sehun at the library before, hanging around with a kid who looked two seconds from falling asleep into his textbook.

“He’s cute,” Minseok says. Baekhyun’s face lights up, like the sunlight breaking through the canopy in the forest.

“He is cute,” Baekhyun says, smiling sheepishly. “But he’d never look at me like that.”

If anything Minseok had learned that year is that things often worked out in your favour even despite the odds. “He might be,” Minseok says, grinning. “You never know.”

When he’s back in his room later that night, Minseok finds the postcard in one of his books, and reads it over again while he sits in his desk. Then he picks up a blank sheet, takes a deep breath, and finally starts to write a letter.

 

+

 

Minseok decides to stay in the school for Seollal and when he calls his aunt, to his relief, she agrees.

“I’m going to visit friends in Busan anyway,” she says. “So if you want to stay there, you can.”

Baekhyun is going back home and Zitao is flying to China for the holidays. He pouts when Minseok tells him while he’s doing his homework on Zitao’s desk in the room he shares with Jongdae.

“You’re going to be all alone here,” Zitao says, zipping his bag. It’s so full of clothes Minseok wonders how the zip doesn’t break. “Aren’t you going to feel lonely?”

“He’s not going to be lonely,” Jongdae pipes in from his sprawling on his bed. He’d been skimming through one of Zitao’s magazines, but now his attention, along with his cat-like smile, is back on the conversation. “Didn’t Luhan tell you he’s staying for Seollal, too?”

“What?” Minseok is stunned. He hadn’t known Luhan was staying too. It makes something stir in his belly. “Luhan is staying? I didn’t know.”

“Are you sure he didn’t tell you?” Jongdae smirks in his direction. “You’ve been pretty inseparable for a while now.”

Minseok decides to pretend he didn’t hear the last part, and maybe his blush will go away too. “No, he didn’t tell me.”

He sees out of the corner of his eyes, to his horror, Zitao and Jongdae exchange knowing looks. Traitors.

“It doesn’t mean anything, anyway,” Minseok says. He knows his voice sounds a tad defensive, but he decides to ignore it, along with Jongdae’s amused smile. “We’ll just hang out like we always do.”

“Sure, you will,” Jongdae sing-songs. “Under the oak tree. K-I-S-S-I—”

“Shut up,” Minseok groans. “You know it’s not like that. It _can’t_ be… like that.”

That makes the smiles fall from both Zitao and Jongdae’s faces. The silence feels a bit oppressing, with all the lingering meaning of his words hanging in the air.

“Minseok, I’m sorry,” Jongdae sputters. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I was just—” Jongdae sighs. “We know, you know. About you and Luhan. We see you when you’re around each other and—well, it’s hard to miss how you two look at each other.”

“It’s cute,” Zitao says. There’s a twitch in the corner of his lips. “You make me wish I had a crush, too.”

Fear runs down his spine like cold water at the prospect of other people knowing about his feelings for Luhan. About _him_. “Do other people know…?”

“No, no, don’t worry,” Jongdae says. “We would never—”

“We just know you two too much,” Zitao says.

Minseok lets out a breath he hadn’t he’d been holding. “Okay, but still,” he says, forcing his voice to stay firm, “I can’t act on it. We can’t.”

He remembers the moment he realized he liked Junmyeon more than just a friend, and that every boy his age liked girls. And the realization, dreadful like cold fingers gripping his heart, that he’d never felt the way he felt about Junmyeon for any girl he’d ever met.

He knows it’s not _right._

“But Minseok—”

“It’s alright,” Minseok says, his voice laced with finality. He tries on a smile, stretching a bit tight at the corners of his mouth. “I know you don’t mean any wrong, but I’ve already made up my mind about it.” He turns back to his work. “Now let’s go over your Math homework, Zitao. I don’t want you calling me in the middle of break to ask me about it.”

There’s that kind smile on Zitao’s face that Minseok only associates with him. “I’ll call you anyways,” he says.

“I’ll call you, too,” Jongdae says. “I doubt Luhan will, and I would like to know if he’s still alive by the end of break.”

Minseok’s chest feels so light. There are times when he still can’t believe he has friends who love him for who he is. It’s a bit overwhelming. “Okay,” is all he says.

 

+

 

It is Luhan who finds him that day after everyone has left the school.

Minseok had thought he would see Luhan at dinner, but to his surprise, the boy was waiting for him by his door, after being strangely absent during the other students’ departure.

“Why weren’t you there to see the others off?” Minseok asks, fishing his room keys from his pocket.

Luhan shrugs one shoulder. There’s a pleased, lazy smile on his lips that Minseok loves, but would never admit to it. “I already said goodbye to them at the dorms, so what.”

Minseok rolls his eyes. He pushes his room’s door open. “C’mon on in, idiot.”

Luhan slips off his shoes at the door while Minseok waits on his bed. There’s something different about this, as though being the only ones in the entire school besides the staff gave them more freedom.

Minseok swallows as Luhan goes to lie next to him on the bed. They’re facing each other on their sides, so close Minseok can feel the warmth from Luhan’s body. He folds his hands under his head, and Luhan keeps his between them. The only sounds are that of their even, calm breathing, and distant chirping of birds outside.

They’d never been so close before. It sends Minseok’s heart thundering in his chest.

“I didn’t know you’d stay, too,” Luhan says. His voice is low; it makes something warm coil in Minseok’s stomach. “Jongdae told me yesterday. I thought you’d visit your aunt.”

“She went to see her friends in Busan,” Minseok says. “I didn’t feel like going home, to be honest.”

Luhan makes an amused sound, his smile crooked. “I never feel like going home, to be honest,” Luhan says. Then, a little more serious, “There’s never anybody there anyway.”

Minseok searches Luhan’s dark brown eyes, and then his gaze falls, inevitably, like flies drawn to light, to his lips, thin and pink, and so, so soft-looking. He swallows again, his hands curling under his head.

“I’m glad you stayed,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Luhan’s smile stretches beautifully over his face, and Minseok’s treacherous heart skips a beat. “I didn’t really want to be all alone here.”

Luhan’s turns soft at the corners. “You could’ve told me, you know,” he says. “But I guess I read your mind anyway.”

Minseok chuckles. “Thank you for your mind-reading powers.”

“You’re welcome,” Luhan says, smugly. It draws another chuckle from Minseok.

Luhan moves to get closer, but his hands drop listlessly between them. In a second of bravery, Minseok shifts just a bit closer. He could swear he heard Luhan's breath hitch, and then release it a shot of hot air that licks Minseok’s mouth.

“Hi,” Minseok whispers.

He can almost count Luhan’s eyelashes with this proximity, see the mole on his cheek and the pimples on his chin. And somehow, he wants to be so much closer. Luhan’s hands are still pressed to his stomach, and his body seems rigid, as though he was afraid of moving in case he touched Minseok.

“Hi,” Luhan returns. A beat, and then a deep exhale. “You know… I’m curious as to why you never asked me about the notes on your desk.”

It’s something Minseok had been afraid of asking. After he’d discovered the notes hadn’t been a prank, and the realization of his feelings for Luhan, Minseok had been afraid to know. He doesn’t want to admit it, but there’s expectation attached to Luhan’s answer that Minseok isn’t sure he wants to find out.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” Minseok lies, his eyes on the hollow of Luhan’s throat. There’s a mole there, right over his adam's apple, that makes his mouth go dry like a desert. He licks his lips. “You never brought it up so I never asked.”

Luhan’s eyes drop to where his fingers play with the sleeve of Minseok’s sweater. “I thought you wouldn’t like what I’d say if you asked.”

He means his voice to sound light, Minseok can tell, but it sounds stilted, almost strained. It sends alarms ringing in his head.

“What would you have said?” Minseok asks quietly.

Luhan looks up at him, and holds it for a second that feels too long in Minseok’s head. He sits up on the bed, suddenly, ruffling his hair with his hand roughly, as if in a nervous gesture, making strands stand all over his head. Minseok sits up as well, his eyes never leaving Luhan’s face.

“That I like you,” Luhan says in time. His voice is rough and low. “I sent those notes because I like you. Since the first time I saw you with Zitao.” He releases a shaky breath. “That’s what I would’ve said.”

Minseok gasps involuntarily. There are too many things running through his mind, but the one screaming over the chaos in his head is _Luhan likes me_ . All those stares, those smiles, and secret touches. Luhan likes him. _He likes me._

Luhan’s dark eyes look doubtful, and when he speaks, his voice is pleading. “Minseok, say something.”

“I…” Minseok starts, but words get lost in the midst of the jumble of thoughts in his mind. “I just—I-I don’t know what to say.”

Luhan swallows. Minseok could swear there’s hurt in his eyes when they fall to the bed. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Suddenly, Luhan stands up from the bed. Minseok startles, and just watches as Luhan puts on his shoes, the alarms in his head ringing louder than ever. _Don’t let him go._

“Where are you going?” Minseok asks, voice infinitely small. “Luhan—”

“I’m sorry,” says Luhan, before opening the door and closing it behind him.

Minseok’s plea for him to stay dies on his tongue. All he’s left with is the creeping darkness of dusk and the dead silence of an empty school.

 

+

 

He doesn’t find Luhan at breakfast the next morning (unsurprisingly, since Luhan hates mornings), or later at lunch (a bit less unsurprising, since Luhan loves _jjigae_ ). He asks the lady at the cafeteria if she’d seen him, but she shakes her head in response.

Near the evening, Minseok gives in and knocks on Luhan’s door. His heart pounds as he waits for Luhan to open the door, but it stays closed. There’s no sound inside when Minseok presses his ear to the wood, no music filtering through the cracks or sounds of shifting, so he gives up and goes back to his room.

As he lies in bed awake that night, he replays every second of the conversation with Luhan in his mind, with all the ways it could’ve gone differently. He imagines himself leaning forward, instead, and finding Luhan’s mouth, when words didn’t come to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach revolt.

He wonders what would’ve happened if he’d done just that, and then pushes the thought down, knowing that they can’t let that happen.

He wishes he’d been braver just this once.

 

+

 

The call connects on the fourth ring, and then there’s Zitao’s voice greeting him on the other end.

“Zitao?” Minseok asks hesitatingly. “It’s Minseok. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time or I could call later—”

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” Zitao assures him. “Is there something wrong?”

“No—well, yes,” Minseok says. “Um, kind of—”

“What is it, Xiao Min?”

The concern coloring his tone makes Minseok exhale to answer.  “Luhan kissed me.”

There’s silence on the other line where all Minseok can hear in his heart hammering in his chest. And then Zitao chuckles. It’s such an unexpected sound Minseok almost drops the receiver.

“Congratulations,” Zitao says. Minseok can hear the smile through his voice. “About time.”

“Well, the problem is…” Minseok sighs. “I didn’t say anything and he left and—Well, I can’t find him now. Anywhere. I think I must’ve looked all over the school for him.”

Zitao makes a thoughtful hum. “That sounds like Lu ge,” he says. “He can be so dramatic sometimes.”

Minseok laughs. “He is,” he concedes. “But I’m scared that… I don’t know…”

“He might have left?” Zitao asks. “It isn’t like Lu ge to run away from his problems. He’s probably still in the school somewhere sulking because he thinks you rejected him.”

“I didn’t really reject him…” Minseok heaves a deep sigh and leans against the wall next to the phone. “I panicked. I didn’t know what to do because you know… two boys can’t… and I just…” Minseok swallows. His stomach is in a thousand knots. He looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what to do, Zitao.”

“You know, when you first got to the school, you were so shy,” Zitao says. “Me and Baekhyun thought it was cute, but I know it was hard for you, and…” He pauses, as though searching for the right words. “When you started hanging out with Luhan it was like you’d met him since forever. You always look so comfortable around him. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy in all the time you’ve been there.”

Minseok inhales, feeling a lump lodged in his throat. “Zitao…”

“So, Minseok-ah, don’t let someone rob you of the happiness you deserve,” Zitao says softly. “And I don’t want to deal with Lu ge moping for the rest of the school year.”

Minseok chuckles, holding back the tears prickling his eyes. “No one wants that,” he says wetly. He smiles at Zitao’s laugh. “Thank you, Zitao.”

He can almost hear the smile in Zitao’s voice. “Anything for you, Xiao Min.”

 

+

 

The next day, Minseok sees a figure much like Luhan’s cross the sports fields and disappear into the forest from his window. He rushes to put on his shoes and grab a coat before he’s running out of his room and out of the school.

He finds Luhan at the feet of the oak tree, just as he’d expected. Luhan looks up from the book he’s reading just as Minseok stops in front of him, bending at the knees to catch his breath.

“Minseok,” Luhan says, surprise in his voice, as he stands up. “What are you doing here?”

“Luhan, I’m sorry,” Minseok says, panting. “I’m sorry, I—”

“What? You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Luhan cuts in. His voice is firm and his brow crinkled. “I’m the one who should apologize for dropping that on you when you clearly don’t—”

“No, I do,” Minseok interrupts him. Luhan looks stunned, his mouth parted in surprise. Minseok’s heart is pounding against his chest and resonating in his ears. “I do… like you, too.”

Minseok bites his lip as he waits for Luhan to say something. “Are you sure?” Luhan asks. His voice is quiet and laced with disbelief, and Minseok wants to laugh because it’s the only thing he’s ever been sure of.

Minseok nods. He can’t help but smile when Luhan’s face softens with relief, his smile bright as his eyes. He takes careful steps to Minseok, crushing fallen leaves under his feet. Minseok holds his breath when he looks into Luhan’s eyes, so intense and gentle as he takes him in.

Luhan places careful hands over Minseok’s face. They’re cold to the touch, but Minseok’s too out of words at the moment to complain. All he can think of is Luhan leaning forward to press his lips to his, tentatively at first, but a little firmer a moment later. Luhan’s lips are soft and warm, just as Minseok had imagined countless times before.

Luhan obviously has experience in this, so Minseok chokes down his fleeting worry about disappointing him, and tries to follow his lead. He parts his mouth for Luhan’s tongue to play with his own, and lets out a little whimper when Luhan pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth. His ears burn with embarrassment, and Luhan huffs a little laugh against his mouth.

He’s out of breath and panting when Luhan pulls away to leave kisses along his jaw and nibble his neck. It feels so wonderful, the heat of Luhan’s mouth and tongue, and his hand wrapping tentatively on his waist, Minseok has a hard time believing it’s actually happening.

Minseok buries his hand in Luhan’s hair, so soft to the touch, and runs it through the strands to settle at his nape. Worrying that his legs are going to give in on him any second, he holds onto Luhan’s shoulders, sighing as Luhan licks the sliver of skin between his ear and jaw. Luhan nips on his earlobe before moving away and resting his forehead against Minseok’s, their breaths mingling between them.

Minseok’s heartbeat is a hummingbird in his chest; it’s so loud he wonders if Luhan can hear it as well.

“You like me too,” Luhan says under his breath, wonder coloring his voice. Minseok rolls his eyes, and Luhan laughs. “It’s just that… I spent all night thinking I’d have to avoid you from now on. Maybe even change schools. Move back to China or something.”

“Just to avoid me?” Minseok laughs. Luhan shrugs. Then Minseok sobers and shakes his head lightly. “No one is leaving,” he says, his fingers curling in the fabric of Luhan’s coat. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

Luhan is quiet as he regards him. “I won’t go anywhere,” he says at length. “I promise.”

 _Don’t make promises_ , Minseok wants to say, but instead, he leans in and kisses Luhan again.

 

+

 

Nothing really changes between them—except that now, Minseok can kiss Luhan to shut him up instead of explicitly telling him to.

They also spend more days in instead of wandering in the school grounds. They lie in Minseok’s or Luhan’s bed, listening to music and exchanging kisses while it snows outside. Minseok had never been so happy in his life.

They eat lunch or dinner when they know most staff have already done so, and talk the whole time while feeding each other food. One  day Luhan bribes the cooks into making baozis, _just because you remind me so much of them so I’ve been craving them_. Minseok had slugged him in the arm when Luhan had pinched his cheeks but had laughed at Luhan’s fake whining.

When they do venture outside, they press against each other for body heat. At some point, Luhan takes his hand and slips it inside his coat pocket. When Minseok looks at him, alarmed, Luhan simply winks, and says, _if anyone sees us, they’ll think it’s because of the cold_.

Minseok can’t help it, the fear. It surges in him when he catches one of their teachers looking at them with their stern, serious faces, right before it splits into their strained smiles when their eyes meet. But his eyes always linger on the crucifixes hanging from her necks, the black beads reflecting the light.

He voices all of this to Luhan one day, even though he knows how that conversation would go.

“Fuck them!” Luhan shouts that afternoon in Minseok’s room. “Fuck them and their conservative, square, fucking boring minds!”

Minseok smiles, because he secretly loves it when Luhan swears despite chiding him playfully afterwards. And because he finds comfort in his boyfriend’s words.

Boyfriend. Luhan is his _boyfriend_.

Minseok still can’t believe it, even as he holds Luhan’s hand under the table while he’s trying to feed him tteokbokki.

“Luhan, I can do it myself,” Minseok says, but his chiding tone is ruined by his laughter. “I’m not a kid, stop it!”

They’d asked for permission to go to town that Saturday, and spent all day shopping and sitting in booths at the back of dingy restaurants. Minseok has never had so much fun in his life.

Luhan cackles. “But I’m your boyfriend,” he says. He pushes the food closer to Minseok’s face. “And I’ve seen boyfriends do these kind of stuff on TV.”

 _Boyfriend_. It still makes butterflies flutter in his stomach. He rolls his eyes before opening his mouth to eat the rice cake. He can’t help but laugh at Luhan’s triumphant cheer. “You’re ridiculous.”

Later, Luhan drags him to the movies in the afternoon because Wong Kar Wai is his favorite director and he’d heard this new movie was really good.  Minseok thinks about the word _boyfriend_ again as he rests his head on Luhan’s shoulder in the darkness of the cinema. It was something he’d seen other girls do with their boyfriends at the movies countless times, but it still feels surreal that he’s the one doing it.

And in the darkness surrounding them, with the colors from the screen playing on Luhan’s face, Minseok thinks he looks beautiful when he smiles at him. A bubble of happiness explodes in his chest when he realizes that that smile is only for him. So he leans in and kisses it, because even though he can’t love Luhan under the sunlight, he can still do it in the dark.

 

+

 

Minseok is a little nervous when Seollal break ends and all the students must return to the school. It’d felt like Luhan and him could be free while the school was empty, but now they have to try to keep their secret from everyone else.

Jongdae is the first one who notices it when they’re eating lunch. Luhan is trying to feed Minseok a fish cake, and Minseok keeps batting his hand away. Jongdae smirks and then whistles.

“Oh I got it now!” he says suddenly. He wiggles his eyebrows at Luhan and Minseok, which makes Luhan snort around his orange juice. “You two little shits, you took good advantage of your time alone!”

“Shut up!” Minseok whispers, looking around for any eavesdroppers. “Someone could hear you!”

“Relax, no one is around,” Zitao says. And in truth, there are only a few students sitting tables away from them. Zitao’s gentle smile makes him relax just a bit.

“What? What are you guys talking about?” Yixing asks—as always—looking confused between both of them. “Did I miss something?”

Luhan laughs again, an ugly wheezing sound. He spills orange juice, and covers his mouth belatedly.

“I hope you’re aware you’re dating _this_ ,” Jongdae tells Minseok as Zitao hands Luhan some napkins.

Luhan scowls at Jongdae while Minseok tries to hide his laughter behind his hand.

“I can’t believe my own boyfriend betrays me,” Luhan says, pouting, turning to Minseok. Minseok makes an apologetic face, and Luhan makes a cooing sound, his arms wrapping around Minseok. “He is sweet to me. Unlike some people.”

Jongdae pretends to gag while Zitao looks like he’s seeing the most adorable thing in the world. “Why you decided to date Luhan is still a mystery to me,” Jongdae says. “Like where Luhan’s jaw goes when he laughs. We’ll just never know.”

“Shut up, Kim!” Luhan reaches out to punch Jongdae’s arm. Jongdae makes his characteristic loud whine. “Minseok knows he has good taste.”

Minseok rolls his eyes, but he still smiles when Luhan holds him closer to himself and plays with his hair.

“You two make me sick,” Jongdae says, but he’s smiling. It’s the same fond smile present in Zitao and Yixing’s faces, and once again, Minseok wonders what he did to deserve friends who love him for who he is.

 

+

 

“There’s something I want to show you.”

They’re lying on the floor of Luhan’s room. Minseok pulls his eyes away from Luhan’s collarbones peaking out from the neckline of his sweater, where they had been for the past minutes. Every time he sees so much of a sliver of Luhan’s skin, it feels like his blood turns to fire in his veins, and he can barely keep himself from touching.

He registers Luhan taking out his walkman and handing one earphone to Minseok belatedly. Luhan presses down the play button, and a soft guitar tune fills Minseok’s ear.

“What’s this?”

“It’s called Linger by a band named The Cranberries,” Luhan says in accented english. Minseok can tell he’s sheepish, by the way he hides his eyes. “My dad used to listen to them all the time.”

Minseok makes a sound of acknowledgement. “It’s nice,” he says, ruminative. “I like it.”

Luhan smiles and shifts just a tad bit closer to Minseok, the walkman lying between them. “I’m glad.”

They listen in silence for a while, until the song ends and another starts.  It’s a miracle Minseok even notices; all he can think about is how close Luhan’s body is, and how nice it is to be listening to music like this with him. He wonders if the song had reminded Luhan of him, and the thought makes his heart stutter.

Luhan shifts again, and Minseok already knows he’s about to speak. “Can you even understand the lyrics in the songs?” he asks. “The French songs, I mean.”

“Of course I can,” Minseok replies, mock irritated. “I’m not dumb. Unlike some people.”

“Hey!” Luhan says, kicking Minseok’s shin weakly with a socked feet. Minseok laughs, and Luhan pulls him closer by his grip on his waist. “I just didn’t know! French isn’t easy anyway. I had trouble learning a few words when I visited with my dad when I was a kid.”

“You went to France?” Minseok asks.

Luhan nods. “I was like eight so I don’t remember much of it.”

“I want to go one day,” says Minseok. “From what I’ve seen in my mom’s pictures, it must be really pretty.  She was in love with all the cities.”

“What if we go someday?” Luhan asks. There’s an edge of uncertainty in his voice, but his eyes don’t stray from Minseok’s. “Any place in Europe that you want. Just the two of us.”

Minseok’s eyes search Luhan’s face. He bites his lower lip. “Are you sure?” Luhan nods with enough conviction to make Minseok smile. “I’d love that. Someday.”

Luhan’s grin is as soft as the afternoon sunlight, and it settles in Minseok’s chest so warm and thick. “Good,” he says in a exhale, like relief flooding his insides. “I promise we’ll go someday.”

He kisses Minseok, his hands cupping his face gently. And for the first time, Minseok allows himself to dream.

 

+

 

Luhan’s lips slide up Minseok’s neck as he pants, Minseok’s hands dragging down Luhan’s naked back. Luhan’s hand moves between them to bring them to completion, and Minseok has never felt like this, like he was flying and crashing at the same time, a slow burn that has set his whole body on fire from the inside out.

He never wants to let this feeling go—or to let Luhan go. And for a moment, against his better senses, he hopes he never will.

 

+

 

“Minseok!”

Baekhyun’s voice stops him in the hallways. Turning around, he’s greeted with Baekhyun’s bright smile, showing a full set of white teeth and too-sharp canines.

“Hey,” Minseok says. “What’s up?”

Baekhyun steps closer to him, giving a cursory glance around them. Minseok almost wants to laugh at the conspiratory look on his face. “So,” Baekhyun says, “remember Sehun?”

“The freshman kid who makes you drool all over yourself when he walks by?” Minseok asks with a smirk. “How could I forget.”

“Oh please, don’t make me talk about how _you_ look when Luhan’s around,” Baekhyun warns. “You don’t want me to go there, Kim Minseok.”

Minseok rolls his eyes, but the gesture is ruined with the laugh that escapes him. “Alright, alright,” Minseok says. “What did you want to tell me about your dumb crush?”

“Well,” Baekhyun starts. A grin blooms in his lips, as though his excitement was too strong to hold back. “I offered to teach him Math, right, and—”

“Baekhyun,” Minseok cuts in, “you don’t know about Math to save _yourself_ —”

“I practiced those exercises for an _entire week_ to teach him about it, okay,” Baekhyun says. Minseok barely bites back a chuckle at Baekhyun’s red ears from embarrassment. “Well, the thing is—while we were going through the worksheet, he would lean on me really close all the time, and yesterday, I turn to him and his face is so close, fuck, Minseok, I swear I wasn’t breathing—”

“What, you kissed him?” Minseok gapes. “Did anyone see you?”

“No!” Baekhyun says. “I mean, I wish I had, but—” He pauses and chews on his lower lip. “I sort of chickened out.”

This time, Minseok does laugh out loud, throwing his head back. “I can’t believe—I can’t believe  you chickened out!”

“Shut up!” Baekhyun reprimands him, slapping Minseok’s arm. “What kind of friend are you!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Minseok says, his laughter dying down. “So what happened then?”

“I asked him if he wanted to meet me in the soccer field one night after curfew,” Baekhyun says. “And he said yes!”

Baekhyun is practically jumping from his happiness. Minseok is a little worried about how all this excitement can be contained in such a small body.

“I’m so glad for you,” Minseok says, holding Baekhyun’s hand and squeezing. Baekhyun grins, squeezing back.

“It was because of you,” Baekhyun says. Minseok’s eyebrows raise curiously. “Remember when you told me I wouldn’t know if I didn’t try… or something like that? Well, I tried and it worked.” Baekhyun’s grin turns soft, and Minseok feels a rush of fondness for his friend that is almost overwhelming. “So thank you.”

Minseok hopes he can convey his feelings through his firm grip on Baekhyun’s hand and the smile that pulls at his lips. “You’re welcome.”

 

+

 

They make a plan for Baekhyun and Sehun to meet up on Saturday night after he’d replied to a letter Baekhyun had sent him with the date and time. Minseok had been worried at first, but Baekhyun had assured him he’d kept any names out of it. Then Minseok and Luhan had proceeded to tease him endlessly about it.

Baekhyun is waiting under the bleachers in the soccer field while Luhan and Minseok had agreed to keep watch from the school, hiding behind the pillars that stood in the entrance of the school from the sport fields.

They can only see Baekhyun’s figure from where they stand, pacing impatiently in the darkness.

“Do you think he’ll come?” Minseok asks.

Luhan exhales. “I hope so,” he says. “He is half an hour early. Maybe Sehun just likes to be right on time for things.”

“Or maybe something kept him back in his room,” Minseok says. “Or maybe he changed his mind.”

“No, he’ll come,” Luhan assures him. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” Minseok asks teasingly, looking up at Luhan. “Did you get fond of Baekhyun?”

“Shut up,” Luhan tells him, with no heat in his voice.

“You shut up,” Minseok retorts, bumping shoulders with Luhan’s.

Luhan laughs airily as he wraps his arms around Minseok, turning him to face him. “Why am I dating you, again?” Luhan asks, settling his hands in Minseok’s hips. “You’re so mean to me.”

Minseok giggles. “You’re just infuriating.”

“See! You keep being mean!”

Minseok rolls his eyes at Luhan’s pout. “I am mean, alright.”

“So you admit it,” Luhan says. He leans in to brush his nose with Minseok, who tries to push him away, laughing. “You’re an evil kid.”

“You’re dating this evil kid,” Minseok says. His lips almost brush Luhan’s when he speaks.

“Because he’s cute too,” Luhan says, placing a kiss on Minseok’s cheek that makes him giggle involuntarily.

“Shut up,” Minseok retorts. “I’m not cute.”

Luhan hums a little laugh and leans in to peck Minseok in the lips. “Yes, you are.”

Luhan captures his lips again, dragging his tongue across the seam of Minseok’s lips. “What if someone comes?” Minseok says, breathy. He’s reluctant to let go of Luhan anyways, locking his arms over his shoulders.

“Who cares,” Luhan breathes into his mouth.

There’s excitement in the pit of Minseok’s stomach at the prospect of being caught making out with Luhan after curfew. Minseok tilts his head and opens his mouth, and moans lowly when Luhan licks his way into his mouth. Shivers run along his spine when Luhan’s hand sneaks under his shirt to draw circles over his skin, and slides farther up his sides dragging his shirt in its wake.

There’s something electrifying in the way Luhan kisses him, when he pulls Minseok’s lower lip with his teeth and then sucks on it as if to sooth it. Luhan groans low in his throat when Minseok pulls on his hair, the sound making warmth pool in his belly, and he wants so much more.

Luhan seems to think the same because he pushes Minseok against the pillar, his knee pressed between Minseok’s legs. Luhan rests his forehead against Minseok’s when they finally separate for breath, panting into each other’s mouths.

A shout cuts through the silence of the night. They turn to see other figures where Baekhyun’s had stood alone minutes before. One is taller than the other three, and Minseok recognizes him with a twist in his stomach.

“Fucking asshole,” Luhan growls, breaking away from Minseok completely.

Minseok tugs on his sleeve when he makes to run there. “Wait! Someone could come and—”

There are other shouts, and then Baekhyun’s distinctive high-pitched loud voice, seemingly trying to fight them off as they push him around.

Luhan gives Minseok one last glance before he starts running. Minseok grits his teeth, nerves raising the hair at his nape, his hands balling into fists as he takes off after Luhan.

Baekhyun looks surprised when he sees them, the previous anger in his face disappearing.

“Oh look who came to join us!” Kris says loudly. “Luhan and his boyfriend!”

Luhan pushes Kris roughly, almost sending him to the ground. “Leave him the fuck alone!”

Baekhyun runs to Minseok when he notes Kris’ attention is on Luhan. Minseok gives him one look, _are you okay?,_ and Baekhyun simply nods.

Kris recovers and puffs up his chest as he walks up to Luhan, looking down at him with disdain. “What you gonna do if I don’t?”

Luhan gives no warning before he punches Kris square in the jaw. Kris squeaks and almost loses his balance. He makes soft whimpering sounds as he covers his face that have his friend visibly holding back his laughter.

Luhan turns to Minseok with the same glint of amusement in his eyes. “Get out of here,” he orders them. Minseok stays rooted in place, ignoring Baekhyun pulling at his arm to get him to move. Luhan’s eyes soften when he notices the concern in Minseok’s face. “I’ll see you back at the dorm later.”

“Okay,” Minseok concedes at length. He feels the urge to kiss Luhan, but he nods before running, following Baekhyun back to the school.

He steals glances over his shoulder and sees that they’d resumed fighting, their shouts ringing loud the still silence of night. It makes Minseok’s stomach clench with fear.

Just when they’re walking down the second floor to get to the stairs to the dorm, they hear another loud voice, deeper and rougher than Luhan’s or Kris’ coming from the fields.

They run to the windows to find a flashlight illuminating Luhan, Kris and his friend, as they’re being scolded by the school’s caretaker. Minseok’s heart falls to the ground, his breath catching in his throat.

“Oh shit,” Baekhyun says next to him, his voice distraught. “Oh no they caught them. Shit, Luhan—”

Dread crawls up Minseok’s back, like spiders over his skin. His heart is beating a mile an hour in his chest. He sees them walking back to the school, following the caretaker, their faces wearing matching defeated expressions. Luhan’s eyes search over the windows, and Minseok bites down the urge to call his name.

“We have to go,” Minseok says, his voice strange to his own ears. “Now.”

He pulls on Baekhyun’s sleeve and drags him as they sprint back to their rooms, trying to make the least sound as possible.

When they gets to their room, Zitao is crouched in front of the window over Baekhyun’s bed. He turns sharply towards Minseok, concern etched in his face. “Was that Luhan? How—”

Minseok nods before plopping down on his bed. “Kris was there, fighting with Baekhyun, and Luhan stepped in to defend him.”

His own voice sounds too weak to him, but he doesn’t make the effort to speak louder. Zitao seems to hear him nonetheless, because he exhales, exasperation in the knit of his brow. Minseok’s shoulders sag and Zitao moves to sit next to him, his arm dragging him towards himself.

“It’s going to be okay,” Zitao says. His cheek pressed to Minseok’s head. His lips brush over his hair when he speaks. “Luhan will get away with it like he always does, you’ll see.”

There’s not much conviction in his voice as there isn’t any in the lack of a reply from Minseok. Because it’s different this time; it’s not a simple fight in the hallways during breaks or Luhan teasing Kris during class. They broke one of the school’s major rules; no leaving the rooms and wandering the school after curfew. And if Kris says one thing about him and Luhan, then they’re definitely screwed.

Minseok had never found it so hard to fall asleep before that night as he lies staring at his ceiling. He wonders about Luhan, whether they’ll punish him or worse. Minseok doesn’t want to think about worse. All he wants in that moment is to be there with Luhan to face whatever punishment he’s given and hold his hand through it.

 

+

 

Minseok finds Luhan the next day in his room. A sullen-looking Jongdae opens the door when he knocks, and gives him a sad look before he leaves the two of them alone.

His heart drops to the floor when he sees the suitcase opened over Luhan’s bed, the clothes piled on it. Luhan’s eyes are full of grief when they meet Minseok’s.

“You were expelled,” Minseok says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re leaving.”

Luhan swallows thickly. “I’m sorry.” His voice is rough. He takes unsure steps to Minseok. “I—”

“What did they say?” Minseok cuts in.

Luhan regards him for a moment before speaking. “They caught me fighting with Kris after curfew. They said it’d been too many times already. They didn’t want to deal with me anymore. And...”  Luhan pauses and exhales a shaky breath.

“What else?” Minseok presses on.

“Kris told them about one of us being gay,” he says. His voice is a little choked up. “He showed them the letter Baekhyun sent Sehun. They asked him for a name in exchange of him not being expelled, but I spoke up instead.” He swallows thickly again, as though the words were grains of sand on his tongue. “I told them it was me so they wouldn’t go after Baekhyun or you.”

“Luhan,” Minseok says, taking steps closer to him. “Why did you do that.” He shakes his head in exasperation. “You’re so dumb.”

Luhan smiles lopsidedly, his eyes a little brighter than before. “Why do you ask then?” he teases. His voice sounds strained. He places his hands over Minseok’s hips, and Minseok leans into him. “You know I’m dumb.”

He remembers the same kind of banter just the night before, but it feels so foreign now, like a scene from a movie he watched so long ago.

Minseok shakes his head again. “You’re leaving,” Minseok whispers. “And I’m staying here.”

He feels Luhan tense, and then relax a moment later. “I’m going back to China,” he says. He laughs, but the sound lacks any mirth. “My mom’s going to be furious.”

The fear of not seeing Luhan again creeps up inside him and settles in his chest. He’s so used to seeing him everyday, sharing meals with him and kisses in their rooms or secret places. That’s not going to happen anymore. He can already feel the emptiness at the thought of all those moments disappearing.

“So now you’ll be free of me,” Luhan tries to tease, but his voice wavers.

“Shut up,” Minseok returns, his words wet. He swallows around the lump in his throat. His fingers curl over Luhan’s shirt. “You’re not funny.”

“I think you like me anyway,” Luhan says. His eyes are glinting now, but his smile is beautiful nonetheless. Minseok wants to kiss him so badly. “It’s okay I like you, too.”

Minseok chuckles, but the sound comes out choked and garbled. “You’re ridiculous.”

There’s the sudden memory of telling Luhan the same thing in another moment, with laughter in Luhan’s eyes and a smile in his own lips, and the pang that comes leaves him in a sob. Luhan pulls him closer, and Minseok rests his head on his chest, twisting Luhan’s shirt in his hand.

“Am I going to see you again?” Minseok whispers unsurely. Tears well up in his eyes and he blinks repeatedly to hold them back.

Luhan pulls away enough to make Minseok look at him. “Hey,” he says softly. He wipes a stray tear rolling down Minseok’s cheek. “Of course you will.” He holds Minseok’s face in his hands. “I’ll go anywhere you are, okay?”

He doesn’t want to believe whether he will see him again or not. They’d never talked about a future together, only vague conversations about places they could see, but never a concrete certainty. Luhan had said he wanted Minseok to see Beijing and all the places he could show him, but all of that seems as well as smoke between his fingers, slipping away like all their moments together.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” Luhan says under his breath.

“Me too,” Minseok says, holding onto Luhan tighter. “I don’t want you to go.”

They stay there until one of the teachers come to pick up Luhan to drive him to the city so he can take a flight to Beijing from there. Once he’s gone, Minseok curls up in Luhan’s bed, burying his face into his pillow that smells strongly of his shampoo. The ache in his heart is more like a rupture, slowly tearing away at the middle of his chest, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.  The memory of Luhan’s hair tickling his nose, the whispers during late afternoons, the soft kisses from his chapped lips, and how loud and bright Luhan’s laugh was is too clear and vivid in his mind.

Minseok doesn’t know how long he stays in Luhan’s room until Zitao comes to find him to take him back to his room.

 

+

 

“Minseok?”

Minseok looks up from his book to see Zitao standing in front of him. He puts the book down on the soft earth. He sits up from where  he’d been leaning against the trunk of the oak tree.

“How did you know I was here?” Minseok asks.

Zitao smiles. “This is the only place you go to besides the library and your room nowadays.”

Minseok feels his cheeks blush and he chuckles sheepishly. He’s been going there lately every time he’d miss the sound of Luhan’s voice or his fingers lacing with his own too much. Somehow the loneliness and quietness of the place gives him some solace, and, strangely, makes him feel a little less alone.

He wouldn’t tell Zitao that, though. He thinks, by the way Zitao regards, he already knows anyway.

Zitao offers Minseok his hand and Minseok takes it to help himself up. “Jongdae and Baekhyun were making too much noise in my room,” Minseok lies. “I couldn’t read there in peace.”

Zitao considers him for a moment before humming in acknowledgement. “They can be a noisy pair, sometimes.”

Minseok clears his throat. “If by noisy, you mean insufferable, then yeah.”

Zitao laughs. It’s loud in the quiet forest. “That is also true.”

They start walking through the forest back to the school. The start of spring had ushered in rainy days, but that day there are few clouds in the sky barely blocking the pale sunlight.

“Minseok-ah,” Zitao says. He sighs and stops to face Minseok. They’re standing in the entrance to the school, next to the pillars. Minseok still remembers Luhan’s last night in the school, but he pushes the thought away, and tries to focus on Zitao. “I know you don’t like when we bring it up, but...”

Minseok grimaces. He knows what ‘it’ means. “What is it?”

“But I’m a little worried about you,” Zitao says. “Well, we all are.”

It’s been a little more than a month since Luhan had left, and the ache in his chest doesn’t to lessen now matter much time passes. He spends more time alone now, because even when he’s around people, the memories of Luhan being there with them, laughing along with their jokes, is too strong some days to ignore it.

“Really?” Minseok asks. He lowers his eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Minseok-ah,” Zitao says. “We all understand.” He rests his hand on Minseok’s arm. “But we’d like you to trust us more. You can rely on us, you know? Especially in me.”

There’s a lump lodged in his throat now. Minseok swallows, but it doesn’t go away. “It’s just that… I miss him,” Minseok says quietly. “I miss him so much sometimes, and… I don’t know what to do because there’s no way for me to see him.”

They hadn’t agreed on a way to see each other after school was over, or even if they would keep in touch after Luhan left. It’d been left hanging between them, as if the mere thought of continuing their relationship with all the miles between had been too scary to even consider.

It’d been for Minseok at first, back when he was in Luhan’s room in that last day, but it’s almost a relief now. He’d heard from Jongdae that the school had forbidden any calls or letters from Luhan to get through to anyone in the school. Minseok imagines how it would’ve been to wait day by day for any sign from Luhan, and decides that the pain would’ve been just a tad bit bigger, because at least now he knows not to expect anything.

Zitao sighs again, rubbing his arm. “Minseok-ah, I know it’s hard,” Zitao says. He pauses, as though searching for the right words. “But you can’t wallow in that forever, shutting yourself away from the world because you miss Lu ge.” Zitao’s thumb traces circles on Minseok’s arm soothingly. “And I know it might sound cheesy to you, but you know this could work out in the end, right?”

Minseok wants to ask _how_ , because he can’t see a way how it could work out. But he doesn’t voice this, and only nods weakly.

Zitao seems to read it in his face, though, because he smiles kindly. “It might not seem like it could work out now, but maybe you’ll see. Some things find a way to come back. Trust me.”

He takes note of the sincerity of his words and the conviction in his eyes, and Minseok nods, feeling a little lighter than before. “Thank you, Zitao,” he says. He hugs Zitao, tightly, hoping to convey his gratitude. “For always being with me. For everything.”

Even if Luhan never comes back, he still has wonderful people in his life, that he’d never imagine would have in his life at the start of the year. He berates himself for pushing them away, and promises to himself to make the effort to be around them more. He knows it will help take some of the sadness away in the end, if not all of it.

“You’re welcome, Xiao Min,” Zitao says when they pull away. “You can always count on me.”

As they walk back to the dorms, Zitao telling him about the prank Baekhyun and Jongdae had pulled on a freshman, Minseok smiles, and saves the small hope that Zitao’s words had ignited in him in a little place close to his heart.

 

+

 

“Minseok, when are you going to stop sulking?”

Minseok buries his face deeper into his pillow. There’s music playing in his room, an r&b album Zitao and chosen that had somehow reminded Minseok of Luhan too much, and he’d spiraled down into a pit of nostalgia that had left him curled up on himself in his bed.

He hears Jongdae’s yelp from Baekhyun or Zitao elbowing him near the foot of his bed.

“I’m not sulking,” Minseok mutters. He holds the pillow closer to himself. “I just don’t feel so good today.”

“It’s graduation day!” Jongdae exclaims, bouncing on the bed. Baekhyun slaps his shoulder to stop him. Jongdae whines. “That hurt, asshole!”

It’s been almost three months since Luhan left. Today they’re saying goodbye to days holed up in classrooms, and a hesitant hello to colleges and an uncertain future. But Minseok doesn’t really feel the excitement his friends must feel  at the moment.

“Tell you what!” Baekhyun says. He walks to Minseok’s side and pulls at his hand until he sits up on the bed. His hair must look like a bird’s nest, but he doesn’t care. “Let’s all go to celebrate after the ceremony today! Let’s get wasted!”

The way those three pairs of eyes look at him, so concerned and eager, makes guilt twist his guts. He needs to pull himself together for these people, at least, if not for himself. He’s been in this place before, losing someone he loves and missing them so much it feels like the ache in his heart is going to drown him, and he knows it’s going to pass. All of it before this has passed as well.

He smiles and nods. “Okay,” he says. “But you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Alright!” Jongdae exclaims, slapping Minseok’s back. “This is the Minseok we all missed!”

While Yixing and Jongdae bicker about what bar they’re going to later that night, Zitao watching amusedly, Baekhyun slides closer to him and wraps an arm loosely around his middle.

“It’s going to be okay, Minseokkie,” Baekhyun whispers in his ear. “You’ll see.”

Minseok nods, lips curling into a fond smile. He rests his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder.

It’s  going to be okay. He knows. Time is all he needs.

 

+

 

As he stands in the gym with his graduation cap and diploma in his hands, Minseok had never expected to have such wonderful people in his life. His aunt has one arm over his shoulder as she holds her phone over them to take a selca, and when they’re done, Baekhyun and Jongdae come to tease him about how Baekhyun’s mom had gushed over how handsome he looks with his uniform. Jongdae is cackling next to him, and even with his puffy eyes from crying, Zitao is laughing along.

Minseok feels a wave of gratitude wash over him. Even with all his losses, everything that has stayed with him has made it worth it somehow.

“Hey,” Jongdae says, tapping his shoulder. He smiles politely at Minseok’s aunt, who starts chatting with Baekhyun’s mother. “I have something to tell you.”

“Okay,” Minseok says.

“Here,” he says. He takes Minseok’s hand and places a square of paper in his palm. Minseok frowns as he looks at the paper, and then at his friend. “It’s a present. From all of us.”

There’s that feline smile on Jongdae’s lips, and his eyes shine, content, like a cat after a good petting. He turns to Baekhyun, who’s smiling at him encouragingly.

“What…”

“I’ll leave you to read it,” Jongdae says. He pats his shoulder as he walks past him. “Don’t forget about dinner tonight!”

Minseok unfolds the paper, his lip caught beneath his teeth. There are five simple words written on it: _i’m waiting for you outside_.

His heart is pounding, threatening to escape out of his mouth. His heartbeat thumps in his ears, drowning out the voices of the crowds around him. He turns towards the entrance, his feet walking on autopilot. The cold air bites his cheeks when he steps outside, and then he sees it: the figure standing at the edge of the woods, holding a bouquet of white flowers.

The sky is covered in grey clouds above, but the smile that blooms on his face is like the first flower in spring. All the longing he’d been holding in for the past month slowly surging up his chest, threatening to swallow him whole. His heart leaps as he takes the first step, thinking about things that might be lost but still find their way home sometimes.

He has no time to  dwell on that, though. There’s somebody waiting for him after all.

 

+

 

The afternoon light spills onto the wooden floors, the white curtains from French doors to the balcony rising and falling gently with the spring breeze. The Eiffel tower stands guard over the rooftops in the distance as Edith Piaf sings ‘Non Je Ne Regrette Rien’ lowly from the turntable over the dresser.

“Your feet are cold! Stop it!”

Luhan snickers when Minseok kicks his shin. “But I want you to warm them,” Luhan says with a pout, but he withdraws his feet anyway. “That’s what boyfriends do.”

Minseok rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you thicker socks when we go out tomorrow,” he says. “So you’ll stop rubbing your cold feet on mine at night, too. I swear I’ll kick out of the bed, Luhan.”

Luhan’s head thuds against the rug they’re lying in when he laughs loudly. He drags Minseok closer to himself by his hands on Minseok’s hips. “You wouldn’t,” he says. “You love me too much to make me sleep in the cold.” He presses a kiss to Minseok’s cheek when he chuckles. “And I thought we were going to the movies tonight?”

“We are,” Minseok says, taking Luhan’s hand. “And then we’re getting dinner in that place we saw the other day, remember?”

“Right,” Luhan says. He tangles their fingers together and leans forward to kiss Minseok. It takes all of him to not hold his face and kiss Luhan deeply. “We’ve been here for months now, but I feel like there are still so many places to visit.”

“There’s still time for that,” Minseok says, squeezing his hand. Luhan smiles brightly, and the warmth that blossoms in Minseok’s chest isn’t new, but it always feels like the first time. “We have all the time in the world.”

“We do,” Luhan says. He shifts closer and kisses Minseok, and this time Minseok opens his mouth to let Luhan kiss him breathless.

As Minseok buries his hands in Luhan’s hair and kisses the smile on Luhan’s lips, he doesn’t mind that they’ll probably end up being late to the movies. So he lets himself enjoy the sound of Luhan’s laugh in his ear right before he whispers three little words to him.

They have all the time in the world.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are much appreciated! ♡


End file.
